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TWO WILD CHERRIES SERIES 
By HOWARD R. GARIS 


TWO WILD CHERRIES 
Or, How Dick and Janet Lost Something 

TWO WILD CHERRIES IN THE COUNTRY 
Or, How Dick and Janet Saved the Mill 

TWO WILD CHERRIES IN THE WOODS 
Or, How Dick and Janet Caught the Bear 

TWO WILD CHERRIES AT THE SEASHORE 
Or, How Dick and Janet Were Shipwrecked 



















































































































































' 



























- 



“Oh ! Oh, what has happened?” she cried 


.mm 















TWO 

WILD CHERRJES 
IN THE COUNTRY 

OR 

HOW DICK AND JANET 
SAVED THE MILL 



HOWARD R. GARIS 

Author of “Rick and Ruddy,” “Rick and Ruddy Out 
West,” “Two Wild Cherries,” etc: 


ILLUSTRATED BY 
JOHN M. FOSTER 


1924 

MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY 

SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS 





Ci\ %v 

M, yO 





Copyright, 1924, by 

MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY 
Publishers 


Two Wild Cherries in the Country 



Bradley Quality Books 

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OP AMERICA 

- 7 1324 

©C1A702747 




CONTENTS 


I V 

CHAPTJB PAOB 

I. A Noise in the Attic .i 

II. By Special Delivery . . . ... 11 

III. The Gipsy's Warning.21 

IV. Ketchup Bottles.34 

V. Off to Summer Hill.44 

VI. At the Mill.53 

VII. The Lonely Cabin.66 

VIII. The Hermit ........ 78 

IX. Danger.83 

X. The Spring Tree.98 

XI. A Wild Chase.108 

XII. Grunter the Pig.116 

XIII. An Upset in the Mud.126 

XIV. A Woodland Picnic.138 

XV. The Hairy Paw.145 

XVI. A Cry in the Night.155 

XVII. The Little Wireless.165 

XVIII. Down a Hole.174 



















Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. Out of the Window. 186 

XX. Gid’s Goat.199 

XXI. The Lame Duck .208 

XXII. The Big Kite. 219 

XXIII. Uncle Harry Goes Away .... 232 

XXIV. The Big Storm. 241 

XXV. Saving the Mill.251 








TWO WILD CHERRIES 
IN THE COUNTRY 


CHAPTER I 

A NOISE IN THE ATTIC 

“How lovely and quiet it is in the house now, 
Jane,” said Mrs. Cherry, as she threaded the 
needle for another long hem in the sheet on 
which she was sewing. 

“Yes’m,” answered Jane, the maid and cook 
of the Cherry household. “And with the 
children not at school, too. ft doesn’t seem 
possible they could be so quiet.” 

“They’re up in the attic reading,” went on 
Mrs. Cherry with a smile. “Dick took his 
book about Robinson Crusoe, and Janet has 
her fairy stories. It’s the best thing to do when 
it rains—give the children books and let them 
read in the attic.” 

“Oh, yes’m,” murmured Jane. “Shall I put 
the meat in to roast now?” 


2 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


“I think so. Mr. Cherry will come home 
from the store early on account of the rain, 
very likely. But I do hope the children are all 
right, Jane.” 

“Why shouldn’t they be all right?” asked the 
cook, turning back as she was about to leave 
the room. 

“Why, they’re so quiet,” Mrs. Cherry 
answered. 

“Oh, yes’m, they are quiet—more quiet than 
I’ve known ’em to be ever before when they 
had to stay in on a rainy day. But they’re 
getting older—they’re not as wild as they used 
to be.” 

“I hope so, Jane. Oh, Jane, listen—” 

“Yes’m,” and the cook came into the room 
again. 

“When you have put the meat in to roast,” 
went on Mrs. Cherry in a low voice, as if she 
did not want to disturb the hush that had 
fallen over the house, “when you have the 
roast in the oven, just slip quietly up to the 
attic, and see what Dick and Janet are doing.” 

“Yes’m, I will.” 

“And don’t let them see or hear you.” 

“No’m, I won’t.” 


A Noise in the Attic 


3 

“Because they may be all right—sitting 
quietly and reading.” 

“Yes’m,” answered Jane with a little smile. 

“And then—again,” went on Mrs. Cherry 
slowly, “they may be—into some kind of 
mischief.” 

“Yes’m,” remarked the cook, as she went 
out. “They may be.” 

And if you knew the two Wild Cherries as 
well as their mother did, and Jane did, and as 
well as I do, you would, I am sure, say that, 
very likely, Dick and Janet were up to some 
sort of mischief. 

But the house was quiet—Oh, so very quiet! 

The quiet did not last very long, however. 
First came the slam of the oven door as Jane 
closed it, having put in the beef to roast. 
Then Mrs. Cherry dropped her scissors which 
fell with a jingling rattle to the floor. 

“Oh, Jane!” softly called her mistress. 

“Yes’m, Mrs. Cherry!” 

“I have to get up, for I dropped my scissors, 
so Til go to the attic and see what Dick and 
Janet are doing. You didn’t hear anything 
from them, did you?” 

“Not a sound, no’m!” 


4 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

‘It’s rather strange. I never knew them to 
be so quiet for such a long time before. I'll 
just tiptoe up there and see what is going on.” 

“Yes’m,” dutifully answered Jane. 

She went on with her kitchen work. Mrs. 
Cherry laid aside her sewing and started up 
stairs. The rain was coming down harder 
than ever, pelting on the roof, drumming softly 
on the shingles, and pattering harder on the 
tin. It ran down the leader spouts with musi¬ 
cal gurgles, as if laughing because so many 
children had to stay in. The rain dashed 
against the windows, and one drop chased 
another down the glass, in a race to see which 
would be first to reach the bottom sill. 

“It's a bad storm,” mused Mrs. Cherry as 
she looked out. “Fm glad our children have 
such a cozy, dry attic in which to play.” 

Up the stairs softly went the mother of the 
Cherries. Those of you who have read about 
Dick and Janet in the first book, called ‘Two 
Wild Cherries,” know why the little boy and 
girl had this nickname. The others of you 
can guess, I imagine. 

Suddenly, as Mrs. Cherry reached the foot 


A Noise in the Attic 


5 


of the stairs, a great noise sounded in the 
attic. It was a sound as though something 
heavy had fallen. Then Janet's voice could 
be heard crying: 

“Here now, you let me loose!" 

“No, I'm not going to!" 

“You got to let me loose, Dick Cherry, or 
I'll—" 

“Look here now, Jan," pleaded her brother 
Dick, “didn't you say I could tie your feet with 
a rope and make you a captive?" 

“Yes, I said that, but I didn't say you could 
pull me up to the roof by my feet and make me 
stay there!" 

“But, Jan, I got to do that!" insisted Dick. 
“You're my captive! I'm a cannibal chief and 
if I don't hoist your feet offen the ground you 
may run away. I got to keep you a captive!" 

There was another thumping sound—again 
as if something had fallen and Janet's voice 
screamed: 

“Stop! Now you stop! If you don’t I'm 
goin' to yell and call mother!" 

“You’re yellin' now," said Dick, coolly, while 
Mrs. Cherry, at the foot of the stairs listened. 


6 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Well, I can yell a lot louder than this!” de¬ 
clared Janet, and she proceeded to do so, 
screaming in shrill tones. 

“Aw, stop it, will you!” begged her brother. 
“I'm not doin' anythin'.” He was so excited 
that he was dropping the g letters from his 
words. 

“You are so doin' somethin'!” declared 
Janet, following her brother's example about 
the endings of her words. “Ouch, now you 
let my feet down or I'll tell—" 

There was a third loud thump. 

“Those must have been Janet's feet,” 
thought Mrs. Cherry. “I was almost sure the 
silence was too good to last. Children! 
Children, what are you doing?” she called up 
the attic stairs. 

Her voice could not have been heard, how¬ 
ever, for Janet was crying: 

“Stop! Stop! Let me loose! Take that 
rope often my legs!” 

And Dick was mockingly answering: 

“You're a captive! You're my captive! 
I'm a cannibal chief and I got to tie your feet 
up!” 

“Dick! Janet! Stop that this instant!” 


A Noise in the Attic 7 

commanded Mrs. Cherry sternly, as she 
hurried up the stairs. “What will the neigh¬ 
bors think? Stop it at once!” 

But the noise in the attic kept up—the 
screaming and thumping. No longer was the 
Cherry house quiet. Even the rain seemed to 
patter more loudly on the roof as if keeping 
time to the noise in the attic. 

Up into the attic hurried the mother of the 
children. There she saw a strange sight. 
Lying on the floor was poor little Janet, her 
feet tied together by a rope. The rope was 
passed over a beam near the roof, and Dick 
had hold of the other end of the rope. By 
pulling on it he could raise his sister’s bound 
feet off the attic floor. 

This is what he had been doing. He would 
haul Janet’s feet up a little way and then, 
when she screamed, he would let them fall 
suddenly. 

It was this that made the thumping sounds. 

“Dick! Whatever are you doing?” cried 
his mother. 

“I’m playing cannibal chief and she’s my 
captive!” the boy answered. 

“But you shouldn’t tie Janet up that way!” 


8 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“She said I could, Mother. She wanted to 
be a captive!” pleaded Dick, looking hurt and 
disappointed. 

“I said I'd be a captive—yes,” admitted 
Janet, struggling to untangle her feet from the 
rope. “But I didn't say he could pull me up 
over a beam like he's doing—so there, Dick 
Cherry!” 

“I got to keep the captive from running 
away,” explained Dick, with a patient and 
resigned air. 

“Well, you shouldn't do this, my dear, even 
if Janet said you could tie her feet,” remarked 
Mrs. Cherry. “Now let her loose, please, and 
then play something more quiet. I was just 
saying to Jane how lovely and peaceful it was, 
when I came up and heard this terrible racket. 
What will the neighbors think?” 

“I guess they didn't hear us on account of 
the rain,” spoke Dick. “All right, I'll let you 
go,” he said to his sister. “But the next time 
I play cannibal chief I won't ask you to be a 
captive! You're no good!” 

“Dick! You mustn't talk so to your sister!” 
chided his mother. 

“Well, I don't care!” 



The glass fell to the floor of the attic with a clatter 


























A Noise in the Attic 


9 


Dick sullenly gave the end of the rope a pull 
to bring it down from over the high beam 
where he had passed it by standing on a box. 
The rope came down with a snap. 

Now, as it happened, there was an iron hook 
on the end of this rope—a hook Mr. Cherry 
had put there so that the rope could be fastened 
as a clothes line in the attic on rainy days. In 
the attic, just above where the children were 
playing, was a glass skylight. 

As Dick twitched the rope, the hook on the 
end of it flew up and broke one of the panes of 
glass in the skylight. 

The glass fell to the floor of the attic with 
a clatter. 

“Oh, children! Be careful!” cried Mrs. 
Cherry. 

Janet had scrambled out of the way just in 
time, for some of the jagged glass landed where 
she had been lying, a captive of the “cannibal 
chief.” 

“Oh, look what you did, Dick Cherry!” 
cried his sister. “Look!” 

Dick glanced quickly up at the broken sky¬ 
light. Just then there was a sudden and 
heavier downpour of rain, and water from the 


io Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

weeping skies splashed into the face of the 
little boy. 

“Oh, get a tub, quick! A basin! Call 
Jane!” cried Mrs. Cherry. “The ceilings will 
be ruined if the rain leaks in! Oh, Dick, 
see what you have done!” she added in sorrow¬ 
ful tones. “Get a tub, or something, quickly!” 

And then, in the midst of all the confusion 
and excitement, there sounded a loud ring at 
the front door bell. 


CHAPTER II 


BY SPECIAL DELIVERY 

Jane came running up the stairs to the attic. 
The cook did not try to go up silently as Mrs. 
Cherry had done, to see what Dick and Janet 
were doing. They had been very quiet while 
Dick was tying up his sister’s feet. But when 
he went to pull her over the beam—then Janet 
screamed. 

“Has anything happened?” asked Jane. 
She had heard the noise of the attic down in 
her kitchen. 

“Dick broke the skylight!” cried Janet, 
anxious to be the first to tell the bad news. 
“Dick broke the skylight!” 

“Aw, I didn’t mean to!” voiced her brother. 
“And the rain’s coming in like anything!” 
went on Janet. 

By this time Jane had entered the attic and 
she could see the broken glass. 

Of course she could not see Dick pulling 

ii 


12 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

Janet by the rope around her feet for this can¬ 
nibal chief play had stopped. But she did see 
the rain splashing in. 

“Oh, Jane!” exclaimed Mrs. Cherry, “I wish 
you would get a tub, or a basin or something 
to catch the water! If it runs down through 
the floor it will spoil the ceilings.” 

“Yes’m, I’ll get a big basin,” and Jane hur¬ 
ried down the stairs again. 

Dick looked about the attic. There were 
many odds and ends there—jolly things to play 
with on a rainy day—but now Dick and Janet 
had lost all desire to have fun. 

Splashing and dashing more rain pelted into 
the attic through the broken glass in the sky¬ 
light. 

“Here’s a pail! I’ll put that under it.” and 
Dick found a little wooden bucket in one cor¬ 
ner, and set it under the hole in the roof. 

“That will do for a time,” said Mrs. Cherry. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry this happened! This storm 
is going to last all night, I fear. We shall 
have to leave something under the leak and 
if it gets full and runs over, after we are asleep, 
it will spoil the ceilings just the same. Oh, my 


By Special Delivery 


13 

two Wild Cherries you shouldn’t have done 
this!” 

“I didn’t break the glass—Dick did!” de¬ 
clared Janet. 

“Yes, my dear, I know, but—” 

Again came that loud ringing at the front 
door bell. It was followed by a thumping 
sound in the second floor hall. 

“Is that you, Jane? Did anything happen?” 
asked Mrs. Cherry. 

“Yes’m, I’m here,” answered the cook. 

“What happened?” 

“I just dropped the tub I was bringing up.” 

“Oh! Well, I’m glad you weren’t hurt. 
Listen, Jane, did you hear the front door bell 
ring?” 

“Yes’m, I did. And I was going to answer 
it so I let go of the tub. It’s right here at the 
foot of the attic stairs; the tub is.” 

“I’ll bring it up!” quickly offered Dick. 

“I’ll help!” added his sister. They raced 
for the stairs, reached them at the same time 
and then there was a struggle to see who would 
go down first. 

“Get out the way and let me go down, 


14 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

Jan!” ordered Dick. "I’m going to get the 
tub!” 

‘Well, you can't bring it up alone! I’m go¬ 
ing to help.” 

“Children! Children! What has gotten 
into you to-day?” murmured Mrs. Cherry. 
“You never used to act this way!” 

“Well, make her let me go down the stairs 
first—I’m older ’n she is!” demanded Dick. 
“And I’m bigger ’n stronger!” 

“Yes, dear, let Dick go first and get the tub,” 
suggested Mrs. Cherry. “You may help him 
if you like,” she went on, as she saw Janet 
about to object. “And please hurry. This 
old pail leaks, I think, and the water is running 
out about as fast as it rains in.” 

Obeying her mother, Janet stood aside and 
let her brother go down the stairs first. Then 
she followed and the two of them, with many a 
thump and bump, hoisted the small wooden 
wash tub up the attic stairs. It was placed 
under the broken skylight window and the rain 
now pelted down through the opening without 
doing any damage. 

“You can telephone daddy to bring up a 
light of glass and put it in,” suggested Dick, 


By Special Delivery 15 

anxious to do what he could to make things 
right, for he had caused the accident. 

“Yes, I shall do that,” Mrs. Cherry said, as 
she made sure that the rain was entering the 
tub and not splashing over on the floor. “Oh, 
why doesn't Jane answer the door?" she asked 
as, once more, the front bell rang loudly. 
“Jane! Jane! Are you going to the door ?” 

“Yes’m, right away, Mrs. Cherry. But I 
had to go out in the kitchen to turn down the 
gas stove so the meat wouldn’t burn. I’m 
coming! I’m coming!” Jane called, as who¬ 
ever it was at the front door began punching 
the bell to make it ring in a funny way, like 
some one performing on a drum. 

“I wonder who it is?” murmured Janet as 
she and her brother followed their mother 
down stairs out of the attic. 

“Maybe it's one of the Gipsies,” suggested 
Dick. 

“What would one of the Gipsies come here 
for?” his sister wanted to know. “We don't 
have any fortunes told.” 

“Well, maybe they want to buy some more 
wood from daddy's hardware store,” Dick 
went on. 


16 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

Some time before, as I told you in the book 
just ahead of this one, the two Wild Cherries 
had some adventures with a tribe of Gipsies 
living in the cranberry bog. This was just 
outside the town of Vernon in which the 
Cherry family lived and where Mr. Cherry 
owned a store. Grandma Cherry's valuable 
cameo pin had been lost, and at first it was 
thought a Gipsy boy might have taken it. 

But this was not so. Dick and Janet, how¬ 
ever, became friendly with Tamma, the Gipsy 
lad, and some of the men from the tribe used 
to buy wood from Mr. Cherry, burning it un¬ 
der their camp kettles. 

“I don't guess it's a Gipsy," said Janet. 
“They wouldn’t come out in the rain." 

“Pooh! Gipsies don’t mind rain!" scoffed 
Dick. 

But it was not one of the dark-skinned wan¬ 
derers ringing the front door bell of the 
Cherry home. Dick and Janet soon learned 
this, for Jane came back into the hall to say 
to her mistress: 

“It’s a special delivery." 

“Do you mean a telegram, Jane?" asked 
Mrs. Cherry. 


By Special Delivery 17 

“No’m, a special delivery letter from the post 
office. The boy brought it and he’s all wet.” 

“Oh, the poor lad!” murmured Mrs. Cherry. 
“Ask him to step in, Jane, while I sign for 
the letter. And then get him an umbrella.” 

“Yes’m,” murmured the maid. 

. Down to the front hall, after their mother, 
trooped the two Wild Cherries. They had 
been more wild than usual this rainy day. 

“Come in, my boy! Oh, how wet you are!” 
exclaimed Mrs. Cherry, as she saw the special 
delivery lad from the post office. 

“I’m used to being wet,” he answered with 
a laugh. “We letter carriers have to be out in 
all sorts of weather,” he added with a manly 
laugh. 

“Yes, I know, my dear, but you are so 
young,” went on Mrs. Cherry as she signed the 
slip. It was a damp piece of paper, and the 
letter, with its blue stamp, was also wet. 

“I’m ’most fifteen!” answered the lad with an 
air of pride. 

“Well, here is ten cents for yourself,” said 
Mrs. Cherry kindly, as she gave the lad a dime, 
while Jane brought out an old but good um¬ 
brella. 


18 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


“Oh, I get paid by the post office for taking 
out specials/’ and the boy drew back. 

“I know you do—but this is extra—on ac¬ 
count of the rain,” and Mrs. Cherry smiled. 

“Oh, all right! Thank you,” and the boy 
took the money. “But I thought maybe you 
had an idea you had to pay for the delivery. 
You don’t, you know. The person who sends 
the letter, and puts the ten cent special delivery 
stamp on, pays.” 

“Yes, I know,” said Mrs. Cherry, who was 
trying to learn, by looking at the postmark be¬ 
fore opening it, where the letter was from. 
However, as the mark was blurred by the rain, 
she could not read it. 

“Thanks! I’ll bring this umbrella back 
after the storm,” promised the post office lad. 

Dick and Janet looked at him with interest 
as he smiled brightly at them and again went 
out into the storm. 

Mrs. Cherry had now torn open the envelope 
and was rapidly reading the letter. 

“Oh, dear! This is too bad!” she murmured. 

“Has anything happened?” asked Janet, for 
there was a noto of alarm in her mother’s voice. 

“Well, it isn’t very serious, I’m glad to say,” 


By Special Delivery 


19 


answered Mrs. Cherry, as she read the letter 
to the end. “My brother—that's your Uncle 
Harry Kent—is taken ill, and his wife writes 
to know if your father can come on to Summer 
Hill and manage the mill." 

“What mill?" exclaimed Dick, suddenly in¬ 
terested. 

“And where's Summer Hill?" Janet wanted 
to know. 

“Summer Hill is where Uncle Harry lives," 
explained Mrs. Cherry. “He has a grist mill 
there—an old-fashioned grist mill, run by 
water power. You were there once, when 
you were very small, but I suppose you have 
forgotten." 

“Has the mill got a splashing wheel that the 
water turns?" asked Dick. 

“Yes, I believe so." 

“But how can daddy go out there and man¬ 
age Uncle Harry's Mill?" Janet asked. 
“Doesn't daddy have to stay here and manage 
his own store?" 

“Well, I suppose Aunt Laura thought daddy 
could come on for a week or two while Uncle 
Harry is so very ill. I must send them a tele¬ 
gram at once." 


20 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Oh, Mother, could we go to see the mill?” 
begged Dick. 

“Is it in the country?” asked Janet. 

“Yes, dear, I mean yes, the mill is in the 
country. I don't mean that you children can 
go—we must see about that! Oh, so many 
things are happening at once! I must tele¬ 
phone your father—” 

“There's the telephone ringing now!” cried 
Dick, as a tinkling bell sounded through the 
house. 

Jane came hurrying down from the attic, 
where she had gone to see if the tub was prop¬ 
erly catching the rain, and the maid exclaimed: 

“That tub’s leaking, Mrs. Cherry, and the 
water's running all over the floor! I'll have to 
get a tin basin!” 

“Yes, do, Jane! Oh, yes! Yes! I'm com¬ 
ing!” she cried, as the telephone bell continued 
to ring. “I wonder who this is?” thought Mrs. 
Cherry. 


CHAPTER III 

THE GIPSY'S WARNING 

While Jane hurried up to the attic to put a 
basin, which didn't leak, under the broken win¬ 
dow in the skylight, Mrs. Cherry hastened to 
the ringing telephone. Dick and Janet fol¬ 
lowed her, and, to his credit, let it be said 
that Dick was sorry he had caused so much 
work. 

“I wish I hadn't broken that glass," he mur¬ 
mured to his sister, as he noticed the worried 
look on his mother's face. 

“Well, I guess it was partly my fault," ad¬ 
mitted Janet. 

“How do you mean—your fault?" asked her 
brother. “Didn't I yank on the rope and snap 
the hook against the skylight?" 

“Yes, but if I hadn't yelled so loud mother 
wouldn't have come up and made us stop and 
the glass wouldn't be broke. Next time I’ll be 
a good captive and let you haul me up, Dick." 

21 


22 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“No,” spoke Dick with a shake of his head, 
“I don’t guess we’ll play that game any more. 
I know a better one.” 

“Oh, what is it?” cried Janet with sparkling 
eyes. 

“I’ll tell you after a while,” her brother re¬ 
plied. By this time Mrs. Cherry had reached 
the telephone. Lifting the receiver off the hook 
stopped the bell ringing, but the children were 
talking so much that she could not hear what 
was said. So she had to call: 

“Dick! Janet! Please be quiet a moment!” 

Then the two Wild Cherries heard their 
mother go on: 

“Oh, it’s you, is it, Robert! Such a time as 
we’ve had! I’m so glad you called up! Lis¬ 
ten!” 

“It’s daddy,” whispered Dick. 

“Yes,” agreed his sister. “He calls up lots 
of times just before he comes home from the 
store to see if mother wants anything. I guess 
that’s what he’s doing now.” 

And so Mr. Cherry was. His wife went on, 
speaking to him over the telephone: 

“No, no! The children didn’t fall in the 
water—I didn’t say that! I said the water is 


The Gipsy's Warning 


23 


leaking in through the broken skylight—who 
broke it— Oh, I'll tell you about that when 
you come home. But bring along a light of 
glass with you to keep out the rain—no, that’s 
all—just the glass. Oh, and say—I nearly for¬ 
got—a special delivery letter just came from 
Harry—yes, brother Harry who has the mill at 
Summer Hill. He’s sick and wants you to 
come out there—yes, we’ll talk that over when 
you get home.” 

Mrs. Cherry hung up the telephone and 
turned to the children. 

“That was your father,” she remarked, 
though Dick and Janet had already guessed it. 
“He’s going to bring home a piece of glass to 
put in the skylight.” 

Mr. Cherry sold window glass as well as 
hardware at his store, and Dick and Janet had 
often watched the clerks cutting small panes 
from large pieces, using a black diamond to 
make a line on the brittle sheet. Then it would 
break evenly and cleanly. 

“Now, Dick, since it was your fault that the 
skylight is broken,” went on Mrs. Cherry, “sup¬ 
pose you go up and see if Jane needs any help 
in placing the tin basin under the leak.” 


24 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Yes’m,” answered the boy. “I’ll go.” 

“And, Janet,” went on her mother, “you 
please come with me and help me get supper. 
Daddy is coming home a bit earlier on account 
of the rain.” 

“Yes’m,” dutifully answered the girl. “And, 
Mother,” she went on, “may we go to Sumner 
Hill and see daddy run the mill?” 

“That’s a rhyme!” laughed Dick, on his way 
to the attic. “Hill and mill!” 

“Oh, so it is!” and Janet joined in 
the laughter. “May we go, Mother?” she 
asked again. “I mean out to see Uncle 
Harry?” 

“We shall need to talk that over with your 
father when he comes home,” replied Mrs. 
Cherry. “Come now—get the table set; and 
you, Dick, see if Jane needs any help.” 

“Yes’m!” chorused the two children. And 
then, for a time, once more peace and quiet 
reigned in the Cherry household. 

The rain seemed to come down harder all 
the while, and Daddy Cherry arrived in such a 
downpour that it was like a flood, he said. 
However he was soon snug and dry in the house 
and after supper the Cherry family gathered 


The Gipsy's Warning 


25 


about the cleared-off table to talk about many 
things—chiefly about the special delivery let¬ 
ter. 

For Mr. Cherry had managed to put a piece 
of glass in the skylight and this kept out most 
of the rain. 

“But after this, Dick, don't be quite so much 
of a cut-up," begged his father. 

“No, sir," answered the boy. 

“And are we going to Summer Hill?" Janet 
wanted to know. 

“Oh, these children! They never forget a 
thing—except when I send them to the store !" 
laughed Mrs. Cherry. “But what do you say, 
Robert," she asked her husband, “do you think 
it possible that you could go and look after the 
mill while Harry is in bed?" 

“Let me see the letter," begged Mr. Cherry, 
and the one that had come by special delivery 
in the rain was handed to him. He read it 
carefully. It told how the children's uncle, 
Harry Kent, was ill, and the letter, which was 
written by Aunt Laura, Mr. Kent's wife, went 
on to say: 

“Besides illness we have other trouble. 
There is a mortgage on the mill that must be 


26 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

paid off, and unless the mill can be run and 
money taken in to pay the mortgage, I fear we 
may lose everything. That is why we are so 
anxious to have Robert come and manage 
things. He knows a lot about machinery, and, 
I am sure, he can keep the mill going all sum¬ 
mer. We have plenty of water behind the dam 
now.” 

“What’s a mortgage?” asked Dick, when his 
father had finished with the letter, some parts 
of which he read aloud. 

“And what does Aunt Laura mean by water 
behind the dam?” Janet wanted to know. 

“Do you think you can go and manage to run 
the mill?” inquired Mrs. Cherry. 

“My! What a lot of questions!” laughed 
Daddy Cherry. “Well, Fll try to answer them 
all. First Dick’s question about a mortgage. 
It is rather hard for little boys and girls to 
understand. 

“However, a mortgage means that a man has 
borrowed some money and he promises to pay 
it back at a certain time. If he doesn’t pay the 
money back he must give up something that 
he owns—a house, a mill or perhaps an auto¬ 
mobile.” 


The Gipsy's Warning 27 

“Will we have to give up our auto?'' asked 
Dick in alarm. 

“No, son, there is no mortgage on it,” an¬ 
swered his father. “But there is a mortgage 
on Uncle Harry's mill, and unless the money is 
paid the mill may be taken away from him.” 

“I think he could pay the money if the mill 
could be kept running,” remarked Mrs. Cherry. 

“Well, then we must try to keep the wheels 
turning,” said her husband. 

“Do you think you can, Robert?” 

“Yes, I guess so. I was going to take a va¬ 
cation, anyhow. I can leave Mr. Snell in 
charge of my store. As your brother says, I 
do know how to run a grist mill. He showed 
me a lot about it when we were out there five 
years ago.” 

“Oh, then are we going to Summer Hill?” 
cried Janet, clapping her hands in joy. “And 
what's water behind the dam?” the little girl 
continued. 

“Yes, I think we can spend a few months in 
the country,” decided her father. “We’ll help 
Uncle Harry run the mill. And what your 
aunt means by plenty of water behind the dam 
is that there is enough to keep the mill wheel 


28 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

turning. They build a dam, or big wall, to 
make a pond of deep water, Janet, and they let 
the water run out slowly, as they need it, over 
the mill wheel, which it turns. ,, 

“I know!” cried Dick. “Once, when it 
rained hard like it's raining now, we fellows put 
some bricks and boards and a lot of mud in the 
gutter, and we made a dam and the water 
backed up and made a big puddle.” 

“Oh, is that what a dam is?” asked Janet. 
“Now I know.” 

“And the water splashes over the mill wheel 
and turns it as fast as anything,” went on Dick. 
“I saw one once, in the movies.” 

“You want to keep away from that mill 
wheel, though,” warned Mr. Cherry, shaking 
his finger at the children. 

“Oh, do you think there will be danger?” 
asked his wife in some alarm. 

“Not if they're careful,” was the reply. 

“When can we go to Summer Hill?” asked 
Janet. 

“Oh, in about a week, I guess,” answered her 
father. 

The two Wild Cherries went to bed that 
night, their heads filled with happy thoughts, 


The Gipsy's Warning 


29 


and they fell asleep to have pleasant dreams of 
the beautiful country. The rain drummed a 
gentle lullaby on the roof, and drops fell with a 
tinkling sound, through a little hole in the 
mended skylight, dropping into the tin basin. 

The next day a reply was sent to Uncle 
Harry, saying that the Cherry family would 
soon be at Summer Hill, to give him what help 
they could. 

“If we are to go to the country for the sum¬ 
mer, my Wild Cherries/' cautioned their 
mother, “I can't have any more cannibal tricks 
or the breaking of skylights." 

“Oh, no'm, I’ll be careful!" promised Dick. 

“So will I!" added his sister. 

There was much to be done to get ready to go 
to the old mill, and among the duties was con¬ 
siderable shopping for Mrs. Cherry. One day, 
when Dick had gone off to play with Sam Ward 
and Jimmie Blake, Mrs. Cherry took Janet 
down town. 

They were coming out of one of the stores, 
having purchased a new dress for Janet, when 
they saw a crowd out in the street. A police¬ 
man was directing four men who seemed to be 
carrying something. 


30 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“What is it?” asked Mrs. Cherry of the at¬ 
tendant in uniform who opened the store doors 
for customers. 

“A lady has been struck by an automobile,” 
was the answer. “The policeman is having her 
carried in here.” 

“Oh, I hope she isn’t badly hurt!” murmured 
Mrs. Cherry. 

A moment later the man carried the injured 
woman into the vestibule of the store. And as 
Janet caught a glimpse of her, the little girl 
exclaimed : 

“Why, it’s Madame Deborah!” 

“Yes, so it is—the Gipsy fortune-teller!” 
agreed Mrs. Cherry. “But she hasn’t on her 
red and yellow dress with the brass spangles. 
Poor woman! I hope she isn’t badly hurt.” 

“No, Mrs. Cherry, said Policeman Conner, 
who knew the mother of Dick and Janet. 
“She’s just a bit stunned and bruised. But she 
fainted so I thought it best to have her carried 
in here. Do you know her?” 

“Well, we don’t exactly know her,” Mrs. 
Cherry replied. “But my husband and I, and 
the children, also, have seen her out at the Gipsy 
camp near the cranberry bog. She calls her- 


The Gipsy's Warning 


3i 


self Madame Deborah and she claims to be a 
fortune-teller. If she isn't too badly hurt I 
could take her home in my car.” 

“Well, that would be a kind thing for you to 
do. I think she'll be all right in a moment. 
They've sent for the store doctor and nurse. 
Here they come, now.” 

Madame Deborah—for she it was—though 
without her colorful Gipsy dress, soon opened 
her eyes when the doctor had given her some 
medicine. 

“Oh! What happened?” she murmured as 
she looked around at the throng gathered about 
her. She had been carried to a quiet part of 
the store and placed on a couch. Mrs. Cherry 
and Janet had followed. 

“You were hit by an auto, lady/' answered 
Policeman Conner. “If you want to go to a 
hospital I’ll call an ambulance, or this lady will 
take you home—that is to your camp, lady.” 

“Oh, I am not hurt enough for a hospital. 
I am all right. I wish to go to my own people. 
You say some one will take me—I am weak and 
faint—but I am not hurt.” 

“Yes, Madame Deborah, I will take you,” 
offered Mrs. Cherry. 


32 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

The Gipsy fortune-teller looked at her. She 
smiled faintly and said: 

“Ah, I remember you—the mother of the 
Wild Cherries—the Wild Cherries who rode off 
in Kobah’s red wagon. ,, 

“Yes,” answered Mrs. Cherry, “and one of 
my wild ones—Janet—is with me now. Do 
you remember her ?” 

“Oh, surely!” answered Madame Deborah. 
“One does not forget a Wild Cherry,” and she 
laughed a little, for she was feeling better. 

When the doctor had decided that it would 
be safe to move the Gipsy woman, Policeman 
Conner helped Madame Deborah into Mrs. 
Cherry’s auto, for she and Janet had come 
shopping in it, leaving it parked near the store. 
The mud and dirt were brushed from the black 
dress which the fortune-teller wore in place of 
her gaily spangled robe, and soon she was on 
her way back to the camp of her people near 
the cranberry bog. 

“It is very kind of you, Madame, to take 
this trouble for me,” said the Gipsy. 

“I am glad to help you,” remarked Mrs. 
Cherry. 

“You are very good. I wish I might do 


The Gipsy's Warning 33 

something for you—but my stock in trade is 
to tell fortunes—and you—you do not believe 
in the Gipsies." Madame Deborah smiled, 
showing her white, even teeth. 

“No, I do not believe in fortune-telling," an¬ 
swered Mrs. Cherry. 

“Do you believe in warnings?" suddenly 
asked the dark-faced wanderer when the car 
was nearly at the cranberry bog. 

“Warnings—well, it depends on what kind," 
was Mrs. Cherry's smiling reply, while Janet 
wondered what it was all about. 

“Then I shall give you a Gipsy's warning," 
went on Madame Deborah, and she seemed very 
much in earnest. “Beware of the deep and 
rushing water! That is my warning! Be¬ 
ware of the deep and rushing water, for in that 
there is danger—danger for you—danger for 
the Wild Cherries. You will not let me tell 
your fortune—but heed the Gipsy's warning, I 
beg of you! Beware the deep and rushing 
water!" 

She spoke so solemnly that Janet felt afraid, 
and drew more closely to her mother. What 
did the Gipsy's warning mean? 


CHAPTER IV 

KETCHUP BOTTLES 

“Mother, do you s'pose there's any danger 
in deep water?" asked Janet. 

“Why, my dear, of course; there is always 
danger in deep water." 

Madame Deborah, now fully recovered from 
the shaking and jarring she had received in the 
automobile accident, had been left at the Gipsy 
camp in the cranberry bog—the same camp that 
Dick and Janet had often visited, as I told you 
in the book before this one. And Janet and her 
mother were motoring home, having left the 
fortune-teller with her friends, when the little 
Cherry girl asked this question. 

“But I mean, Mother," went on Janet, “is 
there danger for us in deep water ? What did 
Madame Deborah mean?" 

“I don't know what she meant, my dear, and 
I don’t believe she quite knew herself. These 
Gipsies love to be strange and mysterious.' 7 

34 


Ketchup Bottles 


35 


“But we are going to Uncle Harry’s nlill, ,, 
continued Janet, “and there is deep water there, 
behind the dam, ’cause Dick said so. Does 
Madame Deborah mean we’ll fall in the deep 
water?” 

“Now listen, Janet, and don’t get silly notions 
in your head,” laughed Mrs. Cherry as she 
slowed down the car to avoid running over a 
dog that ran, barking, into the road. “Neither 
a Gipsy woman, nor anyone else, can tell for¬ 
tunes, nor say what is going to happen in the 
future. Nor can Madame Deborah warn 
about danger. Of course she can guess, the 
same as you or I can. And that is all/’ 

“But how did she know we were going to 
Summer Hill, where there is deep water 
asked Janet. 

“She didn’t really know it—she just guessed 
it,” said Mrs. Cherry. “I suppose you or Dick 
may have spoken to Tamma, the Gipsy boy, 
about going away for the summer. We usually 
go away each summer. And wherever we go 
—in fact wherever any one goes for the sum¬ 
mer there is, nearly always, deep water of one 
kind or another. 

“So it is very easy to say there is danger in 


36 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

deep water—as, of course, there is. And if one 
falls into deep water, and one cannot swim, 
there is more danger.” 

“But Dick and I can swim!” exclaimed Janet. 
“I'm glad of that!” 

“Yes, so am I,” said Mrs. Cherry. “But 
now don't worry any more about the Gipsy's 
warning—it doesn’t mean anything. Madame 
Deborah just wished to seem mysterious and 
strange. It was her way, that's all. But she 
knows no more what may happen at the deep 
water near Uncle Harry's mill than I do.” 

“And do you know anything that is going 
to happen, Mother ?” 

“Well, I think you and Dick are going to 
have fun out there,” was the laughing answer, 
“and I think daddy is going to have hard work. 
And I hope my brother will get better and not 
lose his mill.” 

“I hope that, too,” murmured Janet. “Oh, 
what fun we'll have at the old mill!” she sang 
in a gladsome voice. “I'm so happy!” 

Mrs. Cherry and Janet safely reached home 
in the car, though Jane was beginning to worry 
about them, for they were gone rather longer 
than usual. 


Ketchup Bottles 37 

“But we had such an adventure!” exclaimed 
Janet. 

“Did you really, my dear?” asked Jane, who 
was almost like one of the family. 

“Yes, and there was a Gipsy's warning!” 

“You don't mean it!” cried Jane, for Janet 
whispered the words with almost as mysterious 
an air as that used by Madame Deborah. 

“Yes; but it doesn’t mean anything!” laughed 
the little girl as she told the story. 

“Did she say we could catch any fish at the 
mill pond?” Dick wanted to know, when he 
heard what had happened. “There ought to 
be big fish in deep water.” 

“No, she didn't say anything about that/' an¬ 
swered Janet. “I guess she meant you or I 
would fall in.” 

“Well, I am going to fall in!” declared the 
boy. 

“Oh, Dick Cherry!” gasped Janet. “Fall in 
deep water—Oh—” 

“I mean I'm going to dive in when I go 
swimming!” laughed Dick, who was fond of 
teasing his sister. 

“Oh!” she murmured. “But that's dif¬ 
ferent!” 


38 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

In spite of the fact that Mrs. Cherry told 
the children not to think, and, most of all, not 
to worry about the Gipsy’s warning, Dick and 
Janet could not help dwelling on it somewhat. 
And, as it happened some time later— 

But there, I must not tell that part until the 
proper moment. 

Busy days passed getting ready for the 
Cherry family to go to Summer Hill for what 
was to be a happy vacation for the children. 
In a way, it would be a vacation for Mr. Cherry 
also, for he could get out of his hardware store. 

“And if I can run that I can run a grist mill,” 
he told his wife. 

“What’s grist?” Janet wanted to know. 

“Grist is grain of different kinds,” explained 
her father. “It may be corn, wheat, rye or 
barley which the farmers bring to the mill to 
have ground into meal and flour.” 

“Does Uncle Harry grind the corn like in 
our coffee mill ?” the little girl wanted to know. 

“Well, yes, somewhat, only the grist mill is 
much larger. There are two big wheels of 
stone that are turned by a big wooden wheel. 
The stone mill wheels are inside and the grains 
are ground into fine powder between them. 


Ketchup Bottles 39 

The wooden wheel is outside. Water falls over 
it from the dam and turns it.” 

“Oh,” murmured Janet, “like Dick saw in the 
movies.” 

“Yes,” went on Mr. Cherry. “By the way, 
where is Dick?” he asked his wife. “It is 
nearly supper time and he should be here.” 

“He and Sam Ward went over the lots a 
while ago—I saw them,” reported Janet. 

“Oh, well, I suppose he is playing. He'll be 
along presently,” spoke Mrs. Cherry. 

There were many places about the Cherry 
home in Vernon where Dick and his chums 
could have fun. Among the play-spots was the 
[junk yard of Mr. Feldman. With a rickety 
wagon and a bony horse, called Old Ironsides 
by his master, and nicknamed “Gassy,” by Dick 
and Janet, Mr. Feldman collected rags, bottles 
and old scrap iron. 

Not only did he collect this sort of junk, but 
he would also buy the same kind, and many a 
boy or girl of Vernon earned pennies for spend¬ 
ing by selling rags, bottles and bones to Mr. 
Feldman. For he would buy bones, also, and 
sell them to the fertilizer factory. 

To the junk yard went, then, Dick and Sam. 


40 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

There was always something there with which 
they could have fun—part of a broken auto, a 
damaged wagon or perhaps a bit of farm ma¬ 
chinery. Sometimes from the pile of iron junk 
in the yard the boys would make what they 
called a “steam engine,” and on it they took 
imaginary trips all over the world. Bits of 
iron, rattled together, could be made to sound 
almost like a locomotive. 

“Oh, there's Mr. Feldman going out on his 
wagon now, with Gassy!” cried Dick, as he saw 
the junkman hitching up his bony horse. 

“That’s right—maybe he’ll give us a ride!” 
echoed Sam. 

The boys ran along the lane until they 
reached the yard where much junk was piled 
about. They saw the wagon nearly filled with 
bottles—hundreds of them—all shapes and 
sizes. 

“What are you going to do with the bottles, 
Mr. Feldman?” asked Dick. 

“Can we have a ride with you?” inquired 
Sam. “Please,” he added, as an afterthought. 

“Sure you can come with me,” answered the 
good-natured junkman. “I am going by the 
glass factory with the bottles.” 


Ketchup Bottles 


4i 

“Do you want any more?” asked Dick, sud¬ 
denly thinking of something. 

“What—more bottles?” Mr. Feldman in¬ 
quired. “Sure I do! The more I buy the 
more I can sell. What is it you have—more 
bottles ?” 

“There’s a lot of bottles out on our back 
stoop,” went on Dick. “I saw ’em there when 
I was coming over here. I guess Jane put ’em 
out to throw away. Will you buy ’em off me, 
Mr. Feldman?” 

“Sure I buy ’em. At the glass factory they 
want bottles to break and melt up and make new 
bottles. Bring me your bottles—I buy!” 

“Come on, Sam! Help me get ’em!” invited 
Dick. “We’ll bring ’em here in my express 
cart. You wait for us, Mr. Feldman.” 

“Sure I wait—I got to load more bottles on 
anyhow.” 

Off raced the boys. As Dick had said, 
standing on his back stoop were two score, or 
more, empty bottles. 

“They’re nice and clean,” remarked Sam, as 
he helped his chum load them into Dick’s ex¬ 
press wagon. 

“Yes, I guess Jane washed ’em like she does 


42 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

the milk bottles. Say, we ought to get a lot 
of money from Mr. Feldman for these. ,, 

“Sure we had,” declared Sam. 

Soon they were back at the junk yard. Mr. 
Feldman was ready to drive to the glass fac¬ 
tory, but he waited to look at the boys’ load. 

“How much for ’em ?” asked Dick. 

“Twelve cents,” replied the junkman, after 
a look. 

“That’s six cents apiece!” cried Dick joy¬ 
fully. “Come on, chuck ’em on the wagon, 
Sam.” 

The bottles were tossed up on the junk load 
of others, many being broken, but this did not 
matter since they would all be crushed before 
being dumped into the glass furnace. 

“Well, you boys are coming with me—yes?” 
asked Mr. Feldman, when his creaking wagon 
was so loaded down that the springs seemed 
about to break. 

“Not now, I guess, thank you,” replied Dick. 

“We’re going to the candy store!” laughed 
Sam, rattling his share of the twelve cents. 

“Ha! You will never be rich if you spend 
all you get!” warned Mr. Feldman with a laugh. 
“You should save your money!” 


Ketchup Bottles 


43 


However this did not worry Dick or Sam, 
and they were soon busy in Aunt Sallie Pat¬ 
ten’s little store, picking out the kind of candy 
that they received the most of for a cent. 

It was later in the afternoon, when Dick, 
tired, dirty, but happy from the day’s fun re¬ 
turned home, that matters changed a bit. 

“Dick,” asked his mother when he had 
washed for supper, “did you do anything to 
some bottles that were out on the back stoop?” 

“Bottles—on the back stoop?” repeated Dick, 
with a sinking feeling around his heart. 

“Yes, Jane washed a lot and set them out to 
dry. She is making ketchup and was going to 
fill the bottles. Some were for Mrs. Merton. 
Did you see anyone take the bottles? I hope 
the Gipsies—” 

“Oh, were those your ketchup bottles, 
Mother?” gasped Dick. 

“Yes—why?” 

“I—now—I sold ’em to the junkman!” mur¬ 
mured Dick. 


CHAPTER V 


OFF TO SUMMER HILL 

Silence —deep, heavy silence—fell over the 
Cherry family when Dick answered his mother. 

“You—you sold my ketchup bottles!’' ex¬ 
claimed Mrs. Cherry. “Why, some of them 
belonged to Mrs. Merton! Did you sell all of 
them, Dick?” 

“Yes’m—every one,” he replied. “I didn’t 
know they were any good. “Sam and I—we 
saw ’em on the back stoop, and Mr. Feldman 
was loading his wagon to go to the glass fac¬ 
tory, and he gave us twelve cents for the bot¬ 
tles.” 

“Twelve cents for all those lovely, clean 
ketchup bottles; and with patent stoppers, too!” 
sighed Mrs. Cherry. “Why, Jane just washed 
them and set them out to dry and—” 

“Yes, we thought they were pretty clean,” 
commented Dick, “and we sorter wondered 
why. But Mr. Feldman—he buys clean bot¬ 
tles or dirty bottles—he doesn’t care!” 

44 


Off to Summer Hill 


45 


“I shouldn't think he would !" chuckled Mr. 
Cherry. “I guess your bottles are gone, my 
dear/' he added to his wife. “But, Dick, you 
shouldn't take bottles off the back stoop with¬ 
out first asking about them." 

“I wouldn't have taken them if they were 
milk bottles," said the boy, “ 'cause I know they 
have to go back. But I didn't know mother 
was making ketchup." 

“Couldn't you smell it?" demanded Janet. 
“I should think anybody could smell ketchup 
cooking." 

“I smelled something," admitted Dick, “but 
I didn't know it was stuff to go in the bottles 
on the back stoop." 

“Well, my dear, of course you didn’t mean to 
do wrong," sighed his mother, “but you have 
made a great deal of trouble. I promised Mrs. 
Merton that I would fill some ketchup bottles 
for her, and half of those you sold to the junk¬ 
man were hers." 

Dick looked sorrowful and then he had a sud¬ 
den idea. 

“Say!" he cried. “Maybe I can get those 
bottles back?" 

“How?" asked his father. “By this time 


46 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

they are probably broken up ready to be thrown 
into the glass factory furnace.” 

“No, I don’t believe Mr. Feldman has got 
there yet!” cried Dick. “Gassy, his horse, goes 
awful slow, and it’s a good ways to the factory 
where they make bottles. I can go on my bi¬ 
cycle and get there before Mr. Feldman does. 
I’ll make him give the bottles back—Oh, no! I 
can’t, either!” he concluded, with a sudden air 
of dejection. 

“Why can’t you get the bottles back if you 
get to the glass factory before Mr. Feldman 
does?” asked Mr. Cherry. “And from what I 
know of his horse, I should say you wouldn’t 
need to ride very fast to beat poor old Gassy.” 

“Oh, I can beat Gassy all right,” admitted 
Dick. Indeed the old horse was very slow. He 
had never run away but once—the time when 
Dick and his chums played Wild West, as I 
have told you. 

“Well, then if you get to the glass factory 
first,” said Mr. Cherry, “Mr. Feldman will re¬ 
turn the bottles, I’m sure.” 

“I—now—we—we spent the twelve cents he 
gave us for them,” spoke Dick. “Sam and I 
spent the money, and if we ask for the bottles 


Off to Summer Hill 


47 


back Mr. Feldman will want his money back.” 

“Yes, I guess he will,” chuckled Daddy 
Cherry. “Well, I suppose this loss will fall on 
me. Here,” he went on, taking a dime and 
two pennies from his pocket. “Ride after Mr. 
Feldman, if you think you can catch him, and 
ask him to sell you back the bottles. Tell him 
they are your mother’s ketchup bottles.” 

“I will!” cried Dick, glad of a way out of 
the trouble. “I’ll hitch my express wagon to 
my bike and bring the bottles back with me. 
But maybe some of ’em are broken—I’m pretty 
sure they are,” he added, remembering several 
crashes of glass as the bottles were loaded on 
the junk wagon. 

“Well, save as many as you can,” urged his 
father. 

“I’ll wait supper for you,” promised his 
mother. 

Dick tied his express wagon to his bicycle 
and was soon rattling down the road. As he 
passed Sam Ward’s house that lad was hang¬ 
ing on the front gate. 

“Where’s the fire?” joked Sam as he saw 
Dick rattling past. 

“There isn’t any fire—but I got to get 


48 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

mother’s ketchup bottles back!” cried Dick. 
He explained what had happened. 

“Well,” said Sam, “it’s too bad, but I spent 
my six cents and—” 

“Oh, daddy gave me the money,” broke in 
Dick. “So that’s all right.” 

“Then I’ll come with you,” offered Sam. 
“I’ll ride on the handle bars,” which he did. 

With the empty express wagon rattling be¬ 
hind them, the two boys made good speed down 
the road which they knew the junkman would 
take to the bottle factory. They were lucky in 
catching him just as he was about to unload. 

“What’s the matter now, *boys—more bottles 
to sell?” asked Mr. Feldman with a grin be¬ 
hind his black, bushy beard. 

“No, we want to buy back the ones we sold 
you,” exclaimed Dick. “Here’s the money.” 

“Oh—all right,” assented the junkman, after 
thinking the matter over a few moments. 
“But some of the bottles they are busted.” 

“Well, we’ll take all the good ones,” decided 
Dick, and soon his express wagon was loaded 
again. About half a dozen of the ketchup 
flasks had been cracked, but Mr. Feldman spoke 
to one of the men at the glass factory, and 


Off to Summer Hill 49 

the boys were allowed to pick out six other bot¬ 
tles from a big pile—bottles that had patent 
corks and would be just as good, Dick thought, 
as the ones Jane had washed. 

“You want to go slow on your way back, 
boys,” warned the junkman. “Maybe you 
should break more than a dozen bottles if you 
go too fast.” 

'“We’ll be careful,” promised Dick. 

He really intended to be, but with Sam sit¬ 
ting on the handle bars in front of him, on the 
way back, Dick could not see very well, and, 
almost before he knew it he was headed for a 
tree alongside of the road. 

“Look out!” yelled Sam. “You’re going to 
bump!” 

Dick steered aside, but not quite in time. 
For he struck the tree a glancing blow, his bi¬ 
cycle skidded to one side and went over, throw¬ 
ing off him and Sam. As they landed on the 
ground, shaken up but not otherwise harmed, 
there sounded a crash of glass. 

“More bottles busted!” sighed Dick as he 
picked himself up. The express wagon had 
swung around and banged up against the tree. 

However it was not as bad as it sounded, for 


50 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

only three more of the bottles were broken— 
being some of the extra ones the man at the 
glass factory had given them. 

“Well, I guess I’d better not ride on the 
handle bars any farther, Dick/’ said Sam, when 
they had righted the bicycle and picked out the 
broken bottles. 

“Oh, yes, that’s all right—I’ll be more care¬ 
ful,” Dick said. 

And, a little later, he safely reached home 
with his wagon load of flasks, much to the re¬ 
lief of his mother who had the ketchup all 
ready to put into the bottles. 

The time was approaching when the Wild 
Cherries, with their father and mother, were to 
go to Summer Hill. Letters had passed back 
and forth between Mrs. Cherry and her brother 
who was ill in his home near the mill. 

“He is much worried for fear he will lose 
his property,” said Mrs. Cherry to her husband. 
“But if the mill can be run during the summer, 
he says, enough money will be made to pay off 
the mortgage.” 

“Then I’ll run the mill!” decided her hus¬ 
band. “And our two Wild Cherries shall help 
me!” and he looked at the children. 


Off to Summer Hill 51 

“Hurray!” cheered Dick. 

“We'll have lots of fun,” echoed Janet. 
“And,” she added to herself, “I hope there 
won’t be any danger in deep water.” 

It had been planned for the Cherry family to 
go to Summer Hill by automobile. Mr. Cherry 
owned a large car which would hold his family 
and their baggage. 

So, about two weeks after the special de¬ 
livery letter had come on that day of the big 
rain, behold the Wild Cherries ready to start 
for Summer Hill and a glorious vacation in 
the country. 

“All aboard!” cried Dick, as he and his sister 
took their places in the auto. 

“Let's see now, have we everything, I won¬ 
der?” spoke Mr. Cherry as he looked over the 
baggage. 

“I think so,” his wife answered. 

“All right—then we'll start.” 

He let in the clutch and the car began slowly 
moving along the street. 

“Good-bye!” called Dick to some of his 
chums, who had gathered to see him off. 

“Good-bye!” they echoed. 

Janet waved to Sadie Clark and Lulu Wilson, 


5 2 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

who had come to bid her good-bye. And then, 
as the auto was gathering speed, Janet sud¬ 
denly cried: 

“Oh, look out! Stop the car, Daddy! 
You’re going to run over Ethel May! Stop the 
car!” 


CHAPTER VI 


AT THE MILL 

Daddy Cherry pushed on the foot brake and 
pulled on the emergency brake so quickly that 
the automobile stopped very suddenly. So sud¬ 
denly did it stop that Dick slipped off his seat. 

“Whoa, Gassy!” he cried before he thought. 
He must have imagined he was riding like a 
cowboy on the back of the junkman’s horse. 

“Oh, Janet!” exclaimed her mother. 

Mr. Cherry, having stopped the car very 
quickly, started to leap out, crying as he did 
so: 

“Is the little girl hurt? Did the wheels go 
over her! Oh, this is too bad!” 

Janet looked at her father in surprise for 
a moment and then, with a merry laugh, she 
called out: 

“There isn’t any little girl run over! No¬ 
body’s run over!” 


54 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“But you said I was going to run over Ethel 
May!” exclaimed Mr. Cherry. “Didn't you? 
Didn’t you cry out about Ethel May?” 

“Yes, Daddy, I did,” admitted Janet. “But 
Ethel May is my doll. There she is now, down 
on the ground. She dropped out of my arms 
and you almost ran over her. I wish you’d get 
Ethel May for me, Dick,” she asked her 
brother. 

“Pooh! All that fuss over a doll!” scoffed 
the Cherry boy. “If you want the old thing 
pick her up yourself 1” he concluded a bit rudely, 
for he was feeling rather cross and foolish be¬ 
cause of having slipped off the seat. 

“Oh, Dick, that wasn’t a kind thing to say 
to your sister,” chided his mother. “Please get 
Janet’s doll for her.” 

“Oh—all right,” mumbled Dick, and slowly 
he left the auto and picked up what seemed to 
be a bundle of rags. “She got run over, any¬ 
how, and serves her right,” he muttered as he 
handed the object to his sister. “And she’s all 
dust!” 

“Well, she’s only a rag doll, and I s’pose it 
doesn’t hurt her much to get run over,” said 
Janet with a sigh, as her father looked at her 


At the Mill 


55 


mother with a queer expression on his face and 
shook his head. “If it had been my talking- 
mamma-doll that was run over it would be ter¬ 
rible ! But I didn’t bring my best doll, and I’m 
glad!” 

“I didn’t know you had a doll named Ethel 
May,” said Mrs. Cherry, who knew most of 
Janet’s little family. 

“No, I just gave her that name this morn¬ 
ing,” went on the little girl. “I used to call her 
Martha Blake, but that name wasn’t stylish 
enough so I changed it to Ethel May. Oh, 
dear, one of her shoe button eyes came out!” 
sighed Janet. 

And it was true—the rag doll, stylish Miss 
Ethel May, had but one shoe button eye, and 
that dangled by a single thread as if ready, also, 
to lose itself. 

“It’s good enough for her!” mumbled Dick. 

“Oh, you mean boy!” cried Janet. “I don’t 
say that when something of yours gets 
broken!” 

“There now, children, don’t quarrel,” begged 
Mrs. Cherry. “You shouldn’t have said that, 
Dick. I suppose,” she went on, “the shoe but¬ 
ton was pulled off when we ran over—Ethel 


56 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

May,” and she laughed a little at the “stylish” 
name. 

“I guess so,” agreed Janet. 

“She could have one of the buttons off my 
shoes, only my shoes lace up,” said Dick, who 
seemed to have gotten good-natured again. 

“I got some extra shoe buttons in my sewing 
bag,” announced Janet. “Ill sew one on when 
I get to Uncle Harry’s mill.” 

“Well, don’t give me a fright like that 
again,” begged Mr. Cherry when, once more, 
they were on their way. “I surely thought 
Ethel May was one of your little girl friends. 
I thought she had come to say good-bye and 
had gotten too close to the car.” 

“That’s what I thought, at first,” said Mrs. 
Cherry. “I might have known, though, if I 
had stopped to think, that there wasn’t any lit¬ 
tle girl named Ethel May living near us. After 
this, Janet, when you change the name of any 
of your dolls, please tell me.” 

“Yes’m, Mother, I will,” promised the little 
girl. “And now IT 1 put Ethel May to sleep,” 
she added. 

“Put her somewhere so she won’t fall out 
again,” advised her father. 


At the Mill 57 

“If she does, I won’t pick her up,” declared 
Dick. 

“Nobody wants you to, smarty!” snapped 
back Janet. 

“Children—children—” begged their mother. 

Then the beauty of the day, and the thought 
of all the fun they expected to have in the coun¬ 
try and at the mill, brought smiles to the faces 
of the two Wild Cherries. They had these lit¬ 
tle “spats” every once in a while, just as all 
real children do, and they were all the better 
friends afterwards. 

The trip from Vernon, where the Cherries 
lived, to Summer Hill, the name of the country 
village where Uncle Harry’s mill stood, was an 
all day’s ride in an auto. Mr. Cherry had 
started early and he expected, unless accidents 
happened, to reach Summer Hill in time for 
supper. 

Along the smooth roads, out of Vernon, into 
the country, now passing through some small 
town, and again through a larger city, went 
the auto load of Cherries—two of them wild. 

Mr. Cherry’s car was a good one, and they 
had no punctures or blow-outs, so by noon they 
were more than half way to Summer Hill. 


58 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

They stopped for lunch in a little village hotel, 
and Dick and Janet ate so much that their 
mother said it would have been wise for them 
to take a walk instead of riding the remainder 
of the distance. 

“Why?” asked Dick, who felt a bit hurt be¬ 
cause he couldn’t have two pieces of pie. 

“Well, exercise is good after such a hearty 
meal,” laughed his father. “However, I’ll 
take a back country road, which is rough and 
bumpy, and that will shake you up almost as 
much as a walk would do.” 

But Mr. Cherry was only joking, and did not 
intend to take any roads that would delay him 
on the trip. He wanted to get to the mill as 
soon as possible and start to help his wife’s 
brother, so he would not worry about business 
as well as about his illness. 

“I guess I’ll see if Ethel May is awake yet,” 
announced Janet, after a while, the auto having 
started off again following lunch. 

“Pooh! How can she sleep with only one 
shoe button eye?” scoffed Dick. 

“She can sleep just as well with one eye as 
she can with two!” declared Janet. “So there 
—smarty!” 


At the Mill 


59 


“Children!” warned Mrs. Cherry once more. 

But the little “spat,” for it was only that, and 
not a quarrel, came to a sudden end as Dick, 
glancing toward a house they were then pass¬ 
ing, cried out: 

“Oh, look at that lady!” 

Well might he cry out, for they all saw a 
strange sight. 

In a yard at the side of the house was a lady. 
She was near a clothes post, and racing around 
her was a big dog, but this was not the strang¬ 
est part of it. 

For the woman was bound to the post by 
many coils of clothes line, wound in circles 
about her, and the dog, with one end of the line 
in his mouth, was binding more coils around 
the lady who was loudly calling for help. 

“Look at her!” gasped Dick again. “Look!” 

“It’s just like you tied me once when you 
were playing Indian and I was a captive. 
Don’t you ’member—to a stake?” cried Janet. 

“Yes—I remember!” answered Dick, but he 
did not take his eyes from the woman bound to 
the post, and the dog circling about her with 
the trailing clothes line. 

“Robert, you must help her!” cried Mrs. 


60 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

Cherry. “That dog—oh, isn’t it terrible! He 
may bite her!” 

“No, I hardly think so,” said Mr. Cherry, and 
Dick and Janet could see that he was laughing. 
“The dog is only playing,” he added, “look at 
his tail how it wags.” 

And, indeed, the dog’s tail was waving like 
a flag in the wind. The Wild Cherries knew 
enough about dogs to understand that when 
one is angry he never wags his tail. 

“But, Robert,” went on Mrs. Cherry to her 
husband, “you must untangle her from the 
line!” 

“Yes, of course I’ll do that,” he said. 

As he spoke he brought the automobile to a 
stop in front of the house, and, leaping out, he 
ran toward the yard in which the clothes posts 
were planted. Seeing him coming the woman 
called out: 

“Don’t be afraid of Jack. He won’t hurt 
anyone!” 

“He doesn’t look as if he would,” laughed 
Mr. Cherry, for the dog had now dropped the 
end of the line that was nearly all wound about 
the woman and the post, and was leaping up 
and down, barking joyfully, wagging his tail 


At the Mill 


6i 


and seeming to ask some one to play tag with 
him. 

“No, he's just full of fun/' went on the 
woman bound to the post. “This is the second 
time he's done this to me, and once I had to stay 
tied up for ten minutes until my husband came 
to release me. It's one of Jack's tricks." 

“Rather a queer one," said Mrs. Cherry, for, 
followed by the children, she had left the auto 
to walk over and see if her help might be 
needed. 

“Yes, it is a queer trick," admitted the woman. 
Mr. Cherry was now unwinding the rope from 
her and the post. “I should have been on the 
lookout for him when I started to put up the 
line. But he caught one end in his mouth as 
soon as I fastened my end to this post, and, be¬ 
fore I knew it, he had raced around and around 
me, binding me fast." 

While Mr. Cherry was releasing the woman, 
Jack, the dog, sat down on the grass, his head 
cocked to one side, and with what was almost a 
grin on his face. He seemed to be laughing, 
as if saying: 

“There, see what I did! Now let's see you 
get her loose!" 


62 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

However, this was soon done and the woman, 
who said her name was Mrs. Watson, stepped 
out of the loosened coils, and, shaking her finger 
at the dog, exclaimed: 

“Jack, you're a bad one! I'm going to whip 
you! Bring me a stick!” 

Jack barked once or twice, but did not move. 
He looked at Mrs. Watson with his head on 
one side. 

“Did you hear me? I said you were a bad 
dog and I must whip you! Bring me a stick !” 

Somewhat to the surprise of the two Wild 
Cherries, the dog gave another bark and then, 
with hanging head and drooping tail, walked 
around the yard as if looking for something. 
While they all watched, he picked up a little 
stick—really a dried weed, in his mouth and 
brought it to Mrs. Watson, dropping it at her 
feet. 

“Oh, so that’s the kind of a stick you bring 
me to whip you with, is it?” she asked with a 
laugh. “You ought to be whipped with a 
heavy stick for playing such a trick on me. 
But I’ll be good to you because you have com¬ 
pany.” 

She then tapped him lightly with the weed, 


At the Mill 


63 

during which time Jack, as if thoroughly 
ashamed of himself, crouched on the ground 
and cringed at her feet. Then, throwing away 
the stick, Mrs. Watson exclaimed: 

“Now get up and be a good dog!” 

Up jumped Jack with a joyful bark, frisking 
about, leaping at his mistress and showing how 
happy he was by wagging his tail. 

“Thank you, very much, for coming to help 
me,” said Mrs. Watson to Mr. Cherry, when 
she had finally quieted the dog. 

“We didn’t know what to make of it at 
first,” said Mrs. Cherry. 

“No, I suppose it must have been a strange 
sight,” admitted Mrs. Watson with a smile. 
“But, as I say, Jack did it once before so I knew 
what to expect. He seems to think I put up the 
clothes line just for him to play with. He 
often gets an end of it in his mouth and tangles 
it all up. But he doesn’t so often wind me 
around with it. This is only his second attempt 
at that. Won’t you come in?” she invited the 
travelers. 

“Thank you, no, we are on our way to Sum¬ 
mer Hill,” said Mr. Cherry, “and we had bet¬ 
ter be moving along.” 


64 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Well, then I think I’ll chain Jack up until I 
have strung my line/’ went on Mrs. Watson. 
“I’m late with my washing this week/’ she 
apologized to Mrs. Cherry, “but I wanted to get 
some things dry as a woman is coming to 
iron to-morrow. Wouldn’t the children like 
some milk and cookies? I have some I just 
baked.” 

She must have known, from the looks on the 
faces of Dick and Janet, that they greatly de¬ 
sired the refreshments, for, without another 
word, she led the way to the house and they 
followed. 

“I suppose we can’t very well refuse—now,” 
said Mr. Cherry in a low voice to his wife. 

And, not only did Dick and Janet have some 
fresh cookies and cool milk, but their father and 
mother did also. And so did Jack, for lie 
slipped into the house, and looked so appealingly 
up at Janet as he sat near her while she was eat¬ 
ing, that she fed him bits of her cooky, which 
he took daintily from her hand. 

“Well, we really must be going,” said Mr. 
Cherry, after a while. 

“Yes, if we don’t want to arrive after dark,” 
added Mrs. Cherry. 


At the Mill 65 

“The roads are very good between here and 
Summer Hill,” advised Mrs. Watson. 

Soon the Cherries, having said good-bye to 
their new acquaintance, were on their way 
again, and, without further adventure, they 
reached the old mill. 

“Oh, what a lovely place!” exclaimed Janet 
as she caught a glimpse of it from the road. 

“We can have dandy fun here,” cried Dick. 

As they alighted from the car in front of the 
house, which adjoined the old mill, there came 
from an open door a loud voice crying: 

“Help! Help! Help!” 

Mr. and Mrs. Cherry looked at each other, 
and Dick and Janet paused, wondering what 
this might mean. 


CHAPTER VII 


THE LONELY CABIN 

'There's trouble here!” cried Mr. Cherry 
as he ran toward the open door of the house ad¬ 
joining the mill. 

"Oh, what can have happened?” murmured 
his wife. 

Dick and Janet were beginning to think 
that their summer outing in the country 
was going to be spoiled. For if anything had 
happened to Uncle Harry they could not stay 
at the mill—they would have to go back to 
Vernon. 

Even before Mr. Cherry, followed by his 
wife and children, reached the door, there came 
another loud voice shouting: 

"Let me go! Let me go! Oh, help! 
Help!” 

"Robert! What can it mean?” gasped Mrs. 
Cherry. 


66 


The Lonely Cabin 67 

“I don't know,” he answered. “I hope no 
one is hurt.” 

“We ought to call a policeman!” gasped 
Janet. 

“Pooh! They don't have police in the coun¬ 
try !” said Dick. 

“They do so—I've seen 'em is the movies an’ 
they're terrible funny!” declared Janet. “They 
fall out of automobiles an' everything, an' if we 
could call the police—” 

But suddenly, even while she was speaking, 
the cries for help ceased and to the ears of the 
Cherry family came sweet music—a jolly tune 
played by a band it seemed. 

And then, to the open door of the house ad¬ 
joining the old mill, came a woman who smiled 
at seeing the visitors. 

“Oh, Helen, I'm so glad you came!” she ex¬ 
claimed. 

“Laura! What is it? What has hap¬ 
pened?” cried Mrs. Cherry to her brother's 
wife. 

“Happened? Why nothing—Oh, you mean 
those cries for help. Why, that was the radio. 
Tim tuned in on some station where there was 
a bedtime story, or something like that, being 


68 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

read. Then he turned that station off and 
tuned in on one where they are playing music. 
Do you hear it?” 

“Oh—the radio!” gasped Dick. 

“Wireless!” murmured his sister. 

Mrs. Cherry sank limply down in a chair on 
the porch. Her husband took off his hat and 
wiped his face with his handkerchief. 

“Did it frighten you?” asked Aunt Laura 
with a laugh. 

“Well, we didn’t know what to think,” Mr. 
Cherry admitted. “We heard the cries for 
help, and I came rushing in.” 

“We never thought of a radio out here,” 
added Mrs. Cherry. 

“Oh, yes, we have a fine one, with a loud 
speaker,” said her sister-in-law. “Since Harry 
has been ill he enjoys it so much. We have 
Tim Gordon, the foreman of the mill, come 
over to work it for us but I’m learning how.” 

“And we just happened to get here when the 
loud speaker was calling for help,” laughed 
Mrs. Cherry, who was now over her little 
fright. “It sounded very like a human voice.” 

“Well, of course it was a human voice,” 
spoke Aunt Laura. “As I remarked, Tim must 


The Lonely Cabin 


69 


have tuned in on some station that was broad¬ 
casting a bedtime story, or perhaps it was some 
one reciting a piece. But Harry didn’t care 
for it, so Tim tuned in on some music. 

“Oh, but I’m so glad you’re here, and Harry 
will be, also! Now come in and see him. He 
has been asking all day when you would arrive.” 

“Is he dangerously ill?” asked Mrs. Cherry, 
for she was very fond of her brother. 

“He has been quite ill, but is getting better 
now,” said Mrs. Kent, while Dick and Janet 
followed their parents into their uncle’s home. 
“The doctor says he will have to stay in bed 
several weeks more, though, and when Harry 
got to worrying about running the mill, I de¬ 
cided the best thing to do would be to send for 
Robert.” 

“Well, I’m glad I could come,” said the father 
of the two Wild Cherries. “We are going to 
spend our vacation here instead of at the sea¬ 
shore. It will do the children good. Say, 
that’s pretty fine music,” he went on, as the 
strains of a popular air filled the house. 

“Yes, we have a good radio,” Mrs. Kent 
replied. 

“I got a little one home,” said Dick. 


70 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“But it hasn’t any loud speaker/’ added 
Janet. 

“Then you may like to listen to ours,” went 
on Aunt Laura. “There is a strange man up in 
the hills back of the mill—but there—I know 
Harry is anxious to see you—so come and meet 
him.” 

They went up stairs to where the sick man 
was in bed. By this time the radio had been 
cut out. 

Dick and Janet did not very well remember 
their Uncle Harry, but he knew them and smiled 
at them as they entered his room behind their 
father and mother. Uncle Harry looked very 
ill. 

“I’m glad to see you all—and the Wild Cher¬ 
ries, too,” he said in a low voice. “I hope the 
children will like it here,” he went on. “There 
isn’t much to do, but—” 

“Could I help run the mill?” asked Dick, 
boldly; for he was interested in machinery. 

“Why, yes, we need some help, I think,” an¬ 
swered his uncle. 

“The children can run out and play now,” 
said Mrs. Cherry when they had been in the 
room a few minutes. 


The Lonely Cabin 


7i 


“Yes, only don't go too far away, for supper 
will soon be ready," advised Mrs. Kent. “And 
keep away from the mill race and the big water 
wheel." 

“Can't we look at it?" asked Dick, anxiously. 

“Yes, but be very careful!" warned his 
mother. “They both swim," she added to her 
brother, “but I don't want them tumbling in the 
first evening they're here." 

“My foreman, Tim Gordon, will look after 
them," said Mr. Kent. “He's outside some¬ 
where—probably shutting the water gates for 
the night." 

“Come on—let's watch him!" proposed Dick 
to his sister. 

“All right," she agreed. “I'll leave Ethel 
May in the house, 'cause I don't want her to 
fall in the mill race," she said. “What is a mill 
race, anyhow, Dick?" she asked, as they were 
going down stairs. 

“It's the place where the water runs from the 
dam into a long, wooden thing like a tunnel, 
only it hasn't any roof," explained Dick. “The 
water splashes over the wheel and turns it 
around." 

“I'd like to see it," said Janet. 


72 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

However, as it happened, the mill was shut 
down for the night, Tim, the foreman, just 
having closed the big wooden gate that stopped 
the water of the race, or flume, from splashing 
over the wheel. The water was turned aside 
and flowed down into the brook when it was not 
revolving the big moss-covered wheel. For 
Uncle Harry’s mill was of the old-fashioned 
sort, with an over-shot wheel. He also had a 
small turbine wheel, much more powerful than 
the big wooden one, and this did some of the 
work of grinding grain. 

As the children reached the mill they saw the 
foreman coming up from the flume, where he 
had let down the gate. 

“Hello!” he called to them, cheerfully, for he 
had seen them in the house. 

“Hello!” answered Dick and Janet, not at all 
shyly, for they liked the jolly face of Tim 
Gordon. 

“You’re the two Cherry children, aren’t 
you?” went on the foreman. 

“Yes,” Janet answered. 

“Wild Cherries they call us—sometimes/’ 
went on Dick with a smile. 

“Wild or tame, I’m fond of cherries,” 


The Lonely Cabin 


73 

laughed Tim. “And how do you like it here?” 
he asked. 

“It’s beautiful,” murmured Janet, for in the 
golden, setting sun the old mill was a wonderful 
picture with water dripping from the green, 
mossy wheel that was now at rest. 

“I’m going to help you run the mill,” declared 
Dick. 

“Good!” cried the foreman. “I guess we’ll 
save it, after all.” 

“Save it?” repeated Dick. “Why—” 

“Your uncle has been afraid that he’ll lose 
his mill,” went on the foreman. “You see it 
isn’t all paid for, and he owes money on it. If 
he doesn’t pay the money some men may take 
the mill away from him. But now with your 
father here to manage the mill, and with me to 
run it, I guess we’ll take in enough cash to pay 
for the mortgage.” 

“And I’m going to help!” declared Dick. 

“Sure you’re going to help!” agreed Tim. 

“And I will, too,” added Janet. 

“Pooh, girls can’t work in a flour mill!” ex¬ 
claimed Dick. 

“They can so—can’t they, Mr. Gordon?” ap¬ 
pealed Janet. 


74 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Sure they can—they can make out the bills!” 
chuckled the foreman. “But don’t call me Mr. 
Gordon/’ he begged. Call me Tim—it’s more 
friendly like.” 

So the Wild Cherries did. 

They were shown about the mill by the fore¬ 
man, who pointed out to them how the big 
wheel, outside, which was revolved by water 
from the flume splashing over it, turned the 
other wheels inside the mill, and moved the big 
grinding stones. Between these stones wheat 
and other grains were made into flour. Farm¬ 
ers brought their grains to Mr. Kent to have 
them ground, paying him for the work. Thus 
he was able to live and, he hoped in time, could 
pay off the mortgage on his mill. 

Dick liked the machinery, but Janet did not 
care much for this. The mill was a queer, 
dusty old place, with cobwebs hanging from the 
whitened beams overhead. It was getting dark 
and silent now, for the machinery was shut 
down. 

“But it will be a roaring place to-morrow,” 
said the foreman. 

“That’s when I’m going to work!” declared 
Dick. 


The Lonely Cabin 75 

“And I’m going to make out the bills,” said 
Janet. 

“You can’t write good enough!” scoffed her 
brother. 

“I can so—I’ll show you! and the little girl 
shook her head very determinedly. 

“We’ll see about it—we’ll see,” chuckled Tim. 

Then Miss Lufkin, who was cook for Aunt 
Laura, called the children in to supper, and the 
foreman came also, for he lived with Uncle 
Harry. 

Somewhat to Dick’s disappointment the mill 
was not started up next morning. The water 
gate of the flume was not opened, and the big 
wheel did not turn. 

The reason for this was that there was no 
“grist,” as it was called, to grind. Besides, 
Uncle Harry thought it would be well for Mr. 
Cherry to go over matters with him before 
starting to manage the mill. 

So, not having anything to look at in the 
mill, Dick and Janet decided to take a walk off 
in the woods or to the fields and hills that sur¬ 
rounded the home of their uncle and aunt. 

“Don’t go too far away and get lost!” 
warned their mother, as they were leaving. 


76 Two Wild Cherries in "the Country 

“No’m, we won’t!” promised Janet. 

“And don’t try any of your wild tricks!” 
begged their father. 

“No, sir, we won’t,” agreed Dick. 

“They’ll be all right,” Aunt Laura remarked 
to the mother of the children. “They can’t get 
lost—the woods aren’t dense enough, and they 
can easily find their way back. If you follow 
the little river up into the hills it will take you 
into a pretty part of the country,” she concluded. 

“We’ll do that,” decided Dick. 

So, hand in hand, the Wild Cherries wan¬ 
dered up the hillside, down which splashed and 
twisted the little river that served to turn the 
mill wheel. 

It was a pleasant day—their first one at Sum¬ 
mer Hill—and Dick and Janet were ready for 
any sort of fun. On and on they wandered, 
now stopping to listen to some wild bird, now 
pausing to cast a stone into the stream and 
again halting to gather flowers. 

At last they had climbed well up into the hills, 
following the stream which plunged down the 
steep grade with many a cascade and waterfall. 
Then they came out on a level place, and, 


The Lonely Cabin 


77 

through the trees, they could see what seemed 
to be a small lake. 

Not far away stood a lonely cabin—all by 
itself, and, seeing it, Janet whispered to her 
brother: 

“Maybe we’d better not go too close!” 
“Why not?” he asked. 

“ ’Cause—maybe tramps live there—or Gip¬ 
sies !” 

‘Oh, come on!” urged the boy. “I’m not 
afraid!” 

But Janet hung back. 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE HERMIT 

Silent and still was the lonely cabin on top 
of the hill at the edge of the lake. No sign nor 
sound came from it—not even smoke from the 
chimney. Nor was there any other house or 
cabin near—the small shack of logs, with 
plaster in between the cracks, stood all by itself. 

“I'm going to see who lives there,” insisted 
Dick. 

“I’m not,” objected Janet. “It might be 
Gipsies.” 

“What if 'tis?” demanded Dick. “We aren't 
scared of Gipsies! Don't we know Madame 
Deborah and Kobah?” 

“Yes,” admitted Janet. 

“Well, then, even if 'tis Gipsies in that cabin, 
we can tell 'em we know some other Gipsies 
and they'll be friends with us.” 

“Well—all right,” agreed Janet, after think¬ 
ing it over. 


78 


The Hermit 


79 


Dick started toward the lonely cabin, and his 
sister followed for a little while, but, as they 
neared it, she looked anxiously toward the si¬ 
lent door and window, and murmured: 

“S’posin’ ’tisn’t Gipsies ?” 

“What do you mean?’’ asked her brother. 

“I mean s’posin’ it's tramps? I don't like 
tramps/’ 

“I don’t, either,” agreed Dick. 

“And maybe it might be the same tramps we 
took Gassy away from,” went on Janet, speak¬ 
ing of something that had happened before, as 
I told you in the first book. 

“Well, if it’s tramps, I don’t like them as well 
as I do Gipsies,” Dick admitted. “But, any¬ 
how, I don’t guess there are any tramps there,” 
he went on, motioning toward the cabin. 
“If there was any tramps they’d be making a 
noise.” 

“And cooking,” added Janet, joining in with 
her brother’s idea. “Tramps are always cook¬ 
ing and eating.” 

“That’s right,” Dick declared. “And tramps 
don’t like to live in a house, ’specially in sum¬ 
mer time. Henry Merton told me so. They 
like to camp out in the open and cook over a 


So Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

fire. So maybe it’s Gipsies in tne cabin. 
Come on—let’s look!” 

Satisfied in her own mind, now, that there 
was no danger, Janet followed her brother. 
But, as they approached the lonely cabin some¬ 
thing happened that startled them almost as 
much as if some ragged, bearded tramp had 
rushed out. 

For from the open door of the log hut there 
rolled out a little automobile. It was not big 
enough to have held either Dick or Janet, and 
was a sort of toy machine. As the children 
watched, the toy auto rolled out, moved this 
way and that, backed up, went ahead again and 
then, turning a complete circle, swung in to¬ 
ward the cabin. 

“Did you see that, Jan?” whispered Dick. 

“Course I did. I guess maybe that’s a toy 
shop where they make things for Christmas.” 

“Things for Christmas—what do you 
mean?” asked Dick. 

“Well, didn’t you see the toy auto? It came 
out and went back again. Somebody in there 
makes toys and they try ’em to see if they work 
right.” 

“Yes, maybe that’s so,” admitted Dick 


The Hermit 


8i 


slowly. “But that doesn't look like any toy 
shop—’tisn’t big enough." 

“Well, it is for a few toys," said Janet. 

“And, anyhow, nobody would come here to 
buy things for Christmas," objected Dick. 

“Well, maybe they wouldn’t," admitted his 
sister. “Oh, but look, something else is com¬ 
ing out of the cabin, Dick!" 

As she spoke and pointed, what seemed to be 
a small locomotive issued slowly from the log 
building. The toy engine rolled along on the 
ground—the Wild Cherries could see that 
there was no track—and then it came to a stop. 
A moment later a low, shrill whistle was heard. 

“Oh, it’s just like a real engine!" excitedly 
cried Dick. “I wonder what all this is ? Jim- 
minities, but I’m glad I came!" 

“So’m I," admitted Janet, “but what does it 
all mean?" 

As the puzzled children looked, they saw the 
toy locomotive start off again. It went for¬ 
ward a few feet and then, as the toy auto had 
done, it turned around and entered the shack, as 
if some one had pulled it in. 

“Oh, did you see that!’’ whispered Janet. 

“Sure I did," said her brother in a low voice. 


82 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


“I—Fm getting scairt,” went on Janet, not 
using exactly the right word in her excitement. 
“I don’t want to stay here.” 

“Oh, we got to see what all this is about!” de¬ 
clared Dick. “If any more queer things come 
out of that cabin—” 

Almost as he spoke something else did come 
out. But it was not a toy. It was an old man, 
with white hair and a long, white beard. 

“Oh, look!” gasped Janet. “He’s a hermit, 
I guess!” 

Slowly the old man walked out toward the 
children. 


CHAPTER IX 


DANGER 

Dick and Janet, who had started to walk 
toward the queer, lonely cabin, out of which 
had come the strange toys, halted as they saw 
the old man. Dick heard what his sister said. 

“What’s a hermit?” asked the boy in a whis¬ 
per. 

Sometimes Janet knew things that Dick 
didn’t know. It was not very often that Dick 
would admit this, but now was a time. 

“A hermit is a queer old man who lives all 
alone,” answered Janet, still in a low voice so 
the one who was approaching would not hear 
her. 

“Does he do things ?” Dick wanted to know. 

“Yes—I guess he does—things,” answered 
Janet. She didn’t exactly know what a hermit 
did. In fact she knew very little about them. 
She had once seen a picture of an old man— 
something like the man from the cabin. 

83 


84 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

This picture was called “The Hermit,” and 
by asking her mother questions, Janet had 
learned all she now knew about hermits— 
which wasn’t much, to tell you the truth. 

Not knowing what they ought to do, not 
knowing what the old man might be going to 
do—in fact just a little bit afraid the two Wild 
Cherries waited for what was next to happen. 
However they need not have been frightened. 

For the aged man, with a kind smile which 
parted the bushy, white beard on his face, mak¬ 
ing it wave and flutter, called: 

“Hello, children! Have you come to see 
me? I’m glad to see you! Come in and I’ll 
show you many strange things.” 

The hermit, for such he might be called, 
seemed to know that Dick and Janet had been 
looking at and watching the toy auto and loco¬ 
motive, which had run themselves back into 
the cabin. Taking heart because of the gentle 
voice and kind smile of the old man, Dick 
asked: 

“Do you make Christmas presents?” 

“And do you work for Santa Claus?” Janet 
wanted to know. In a way she was very fond 
of Santa Claus. 


Danger 


85 

“Well, yes, you might say I make Christmas 
presents,” answered the old man. “I make 
toys more for myself, though, than for Santa 
Claus. But if he wants me to help him at any 
time, I shall be very happy to do so. If you 
will come in my workshop Fll show you some 
more wonders.” 

“How did you make that auto go?” asked 
Dick. “Did you pull it back by a string?” 

“No, it didn't work that way,” was the re- 
ply. 

“Did you wind up a spring in it?” asked the 
boy. “I had that kind of a toy auto once, but 
it wouldn’t turn around and back up.” 

“No, it doesn’t work by a wound-up spring, 
though there are springs inside the auto, and 
also inside the little locomotive,” said the old 
man. “You happened to come along just when 
I was trying them to see how they worked. I 
have been experimenting on them.” 

Seeing, by the looks on their faces that the 
children did not know what this word meant, 
the hermit went on: 

“That means I have been working on these 
toys so they will do some wonderful tricks. 
Though they move backward and forward 


86 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

now, and turn around, I want them to be still 
better.” 

“And do they do all that without being 
wound up and without you pulling a string?” 
asked Dick, who liked anything that had to do 
with machinery. “I don’t see what makes ’em 
go,” he added. 

“I’ll tell you about it pretty soon,” said the 
man with another jolly smile. “Come in my 
workshop and see what else I have that Santa 
Claus might like.” 

Dick looked at Janet and Janet looked at 
Dick. Would it be all right, they wondered, to 
go in the lonely shack of this hermit? He 
was not a Gipsy, that they could tell, and he was 
not a tramp. Who he was they did not know. 
But when Dick thought of those wonderful 
toys, which worked in a way he had never be¬ 
fore seen toys work, the boy could resist no 
longer. 

“I’m going in!” he said. 

“Then I’m coming, too,” added Janet. 

As if knowing that the children would come, 
the old man had turned and walked back to¬ 
ward his log cabin. The Wild Cherries fol¬ 
lowed him inside the door. Dick gave a gasp 



“Here is something you may like, my little man,” 
went on the hermit. 















Danger 


87 


of delight as he peered into the room. Scat¬ 
tered about on a work-bench were many toys 
—mostly the kind that ran on wheels. 

Besides these there were a number of queer 
machines, such as Dick had had a glimpse of, 
once, in the laboratory of the high school in 
Vernon. He had gone there to a little play 
with his mother, and she had let him peep into 
the room where the older boys and girls learned 
all about electricity and other forces of nature. 

“Here is something you may like, my little 
man/' went on the hermit. He took down 
from a shelf a small motor boat which had 
some curious things on its deck. “I’m sorry 
I haven’t a walking, talking and sleeping doll 
for you to look at,” said the old man to Janet. 

“Oh, I like boats, same as Dick does!” she 
made haste to say. “We went sailing on a 
raft once; didn’t we, Diek?” 

“Sure we did,” he answered. 

“Well if you like boys’ toys then you’ll like 
this, I think,” proceeded the hermit. “Come 
down to the little lake and I’ll show you how 
it works.” 

“It’s a dandy boat all right!” murmured 
Dick, as he looked longer at the beautiful toy. 


88 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

At the stern was a little propeller, just as on a 
real speed boat. 

The old man carefully set the toy boat, which 
was about three feet long, in the water where 
it floated gracefully, gently bobbing up and 
down on the waves raised by the gentle sum¬ 
mer breeze. 

“Doesn’t it go?” asked Dick, for the boat 
did not move. 

“Oh, yes, when I turn on the power,” an¬ 
swered the hermit. “I must do that from back 
in my work shop. You stay here and watch.” 

Leaving Dick and Janet standing on the 
shore of the pond, the water from which turned 
the big mill wheel, the hermit went back to 
his shop. From it, presently, came strange 
buzzing and snapping sounds. Dick wondered 
where he had heard sounds like them before. 

Suddenly, to the surprise of the children, the 
toy motor boat at which they were looking, 
began to move all by itself. It started out, 
slowly at first, and then ran swiftly, a hundred 
feet or more from the shore. Gradually it 
came to a stop, and began to reverse, or back 
up. 

“Look at that, would you?” cried Dick. 


Danger 


89 


Even as he spoke the boat shot off to the 
left. , Then it went to the right. Then it 
swung in circles, first one way and then the 
other. Lastly it turned about and headed back 
for the spot on shore where the children stood, 
coming to a stop not far from them. 

And all this was done without any one being 
on board the boat, which might have held 
a small boy, and without the hermit going 
near it to wind the boat up or pull it by a 
string. 

“Say, that was great !” cried Dick in won¬ 
dering admiration. “How did you do it?” he 
asked as the hermit, smiling broadly, came out 
of the cabin. 

“Come here and Fll show you,” he said. 

Giving a glance back toward the boat, to 
make sure it was not moving, Dick and Janet 
followed the old man into his wonder-shop. 

“Now watch the boat,” he advised them. 

Standing in the door of the cabin they could 
look down to the motor boat in the pond. And, 
as they watched, they had a glimpse of the old 
man turning handles, wheels and switches at 
one of the queer machines on his work bench. 
When he turned a handle one way the motor 


90 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

boat shot ahead. When he turned the handle 
the other way, the boat backed up. 

And, as he turned other handles, wheels and 
switches, the boat once more did as it had done 
when Dick and Janet were close to it. 

The little craft went ahead, backed up, 
circled about, turned to the right or left and 
then, swinging completely around, came to the 
shore it had left. 

“How do you do it without winding it up or 
pulling it by strings?” asked Dick, when the 
boat was at rest again. 

“It is all done by wireless,” answered the old 
man. “You are too little to understand it now. 
But there is machinery in the boat, just as there 
was machinery in the toy auto and locomotive. 
I can start and stop that machinery by wire¬ 
less waves, just as I can, from a long way off, 
have you listen to a song or story over the 
wireless telephone.” 

“Oh, you mean Uncle Harry’s loud 
speaker?” asked Janet. 

“Well, yes, something like that,” was the 
answer. “In fact I put in that loud speaker 
for your uncle.” 

“Oh, do you know him?” asked Dick, with 


Danger 


9 i 


a more friendly feeling toward the aged hermit. 

“Oh, yes, I know him, and I can guess who 
you are—the Cherry children/’ he went on. 

“That’s who we are!” exclaimed Janet in de¬ 
light. 

“They call us the Wild Cherries—some¬ 
times,” confessed Dick. 

“Well, you haven’t acted very wild since you 
came here,” chuckled the hermit. “I have 
been hoping you would—it gets a bit dull here 
for me, all alone.” 

“Doesn’t anybody live with you?” Janet 
wanted to know. 

“No, I’m here all by myself. I am working 
on some new wireless radio machines. I try 
things first by these toys—the toy auto, locomo¬ 
tive and motor boat. Later on I may make a 
big auto that I can steer over the hills and far 
away.” 

“You mean steer it over the hill and you stay 
here?” asked Dick. 

“Yes, just as I steered and ran the motor 
boat in the water while I stayed on land. 
When you get older you will understand. Just 
now these are only toys to you.” 

“We heard Uncle Harry’s loud speaker 


92 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

when we came yesterday,” said Janet, “and 
mother thought something had happened.” 

“Yes?” laughed the hermit. “Well, when I 
heard that your uncle was ill I asked him to let 
me put in a radio for him. I am glad to know 
it amuses him.” 

“Yes, it does,” said Dick. “Uncle Harry is 
pretty sick.” 

“And he's afraid he's going to lose the mill,” 
added Janet. 

“That's too bad. How will he lose the 
mill?” asked the hermit. 

“Somebody that he’s got to pay money to 
may take the mill away if he doesn’t pay,” an¬ 
swered Dick. “But my father is going to run 
the mill.” 

“And I guess it will be all right,” said Janet, 
who had great faith in her daddy, as was 
proper. 

“Yes, I hope everything will come out all 
right,” said the hermit, as he went down to the 
water to take out the model motor boat. “Now 
I don’t want to send you children away, for I 
like to have you here,” he went on when the 
boat had been put in the shack. “But if you 
stay too long your parents may worry.” 


Danger 


93 


“Can we come back again to-morrow ?” 
asked Janet. 

“Or this afternoon? added her brother. 

“Better make it to-morrow,” suggested the 
old man with a smile. “I am going away this 
afternoon.” 

“Then we’ll come to-morrow,” promised 
Dick. “Are there any fish in this lake?” he 
asked, for he was fond of fishing. 

“There may be some, I have never had time 
to try to catch any,” was the answer. “This 
is an artificial lake. That is, it was once a 
small pond, but a dam was built and the water, 
from springs and brooks in the hills all around, 
has gathered back of the dam, until there is 
quite a lake.” 

“This water runs Uncle Harry’s mill,” said 
Dick. 

“Yes, I know it does,” answered the hermit. 
“It runs the mill and some day it might sweep 
the mill away.” 

“How?” asked Dick. 

“I mean if there should come heavy rains, 
and there should be so much water gathered in 
this lake that it broke the dam, then the mill 
down below would be swept away,” the her- 


94 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

mit said. “It is dangerous the way this dam 
is built. I have often told your uncle so.” 

“Dangerous ?” murmured Dick. 

“Yes; but as nothing has happened in many 
years, perhaps it never will happen. Come, I 
will show you the dam and the flood gates, and 
then you had better go home or your folks may 
worry.” 

Leading the children along a path beside the 
lake, the hermit pointed out where the dam was 
built—a thick wall of stones and cement, hold¬ 
ing back the waters behind it. He also showed 
them where there was an opening in the dam 
through which the water ran down the hill and 
into the mill race, turning the big wheel. 

“What’s that other gate for?” asked Dick, 
pointing to a very large one at the other side 
of the dam. 

“That is to open and let the waters out with 
a rush, down into the deep gulch or valley, in 
case the lake gets too high on account of too 
much rain,” answered the hermit. “That gate 
is to save your uncle’s mill from danger.” 

“How?” Dick wanted to know. He never 
could seem to hear enough about machinery. 

“Well,” went on the hermit, “in case the 


Danger 


95 


water back of the dam became too high, and 
was in danger of bursting the stone wall, and 
sweeping down on the mill, if this gate were 
opened, the flood would rush down the gulch, 
where it could do no harm. For there are no 
mills or houses in the gulch.” 

“Does Uncle Harry know about this dan¬ 
ger ?” asked Dick. 

“Yes, I suppose so,” said the hermit. “I 
have heard him say that if ever the lake gets 
too high the flood gate must be opened to save 
his mill.” 

“Who would open the flood gate?” asked 
Janet, who thought she would like to see the 
foaming waters rush on their way down the 
gulch where they could do no harm. 

“Oh, there is a watchman on guard, in that 
little house over there,” and the hermit pointed 
to a small one the children had not, up to this 
time, noticed. “The watchman is supposed to 
be on guard in the time of big rains, and he 
would open the flood gate if there was danger.” 

“Then Uncle Harry’s mill would be saved,” 
said Dick. 

“Yes, if the flood gate was opened in time,” 
answered the hermit. “But now then, my 


96 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

Wild Cherries, you had better hurry home—or 
to your uncle’s house. Is he feeling any 
better ?” 

“I guess so—a little,” said Janet. 

“I didn’t hear the mill running to-day,” went 
on the old man. 

“No, there wasn’t anything to grind,” an¬ 
swered Dick, who had heard Tim Gordon say 
this. “But it’s going to grind to-morrow and 
my father is going to run the mill and I’m go¬ 
ing to help him!” 

“Good for you, little man!” laughed the 
hermit. 

“And I’m going to make out the bills,” added 
Janet with pride. 

“That’s fine!” said the old man. “Well, run 
along now!” 

So Dick and Janet, saying good-bye, turned 
into the path that led down to the mill. And, 
as if to show that they could be wild when they 
wished, Dick and Janet turned somersaults 
down the grassy slope. Behind them they 
could hear the laughter of the old man. 

When they were nearly at their uncle’s house 
Janet turned to Dick and exclaimed: 

“Oh, we forgot something!” 


Danger 


97 


“What?” 

“We forgot to ask his name. He asked ours 
—anyhow he knew our names—but we don’t 
know his!” 

“That’s right,” agreed Dick, coming to a 
stop as he was about to jump over a big rock, 
“we don’t!” 


CHAPTER X 


THE SPRING TREE 

The two Wild Cherries were queer children. 
They did things other boys and girls wouldn't 
do, and they thought of things other boys and 
girls wouldn't think of. This was one of those 
times. 

“We weren't very polite—not to ask him his 
name," went on Janet. 

“No—that's right—we weren't," agreed 
Dick. “We could go back up there and ask 
him, though. Come on—let’s—I’d like to see 
that auto run again." 

“No," and Janet shook her head. “We 
ought to go back to Uncle Harry's house: 
Mother may worry. Anyhow, this old man 
knows Uncle Harry and Uncle Harry will 
know his name." 

“Oh, yes, that's so!" cried Dick. “But, all 
the same, he’ll think we weren't very polite not 
to ask him." 


98 


The Spring Tree 


99 


“We can appelergize next time we see him,” 
suggested Janet. 

“Yes, that's right. We can appelergize 
next time,” and Dick, satisfied with this way 
out of the trouble, jumped over the rock. 
Janet tried it, but she came to grief, falling in 
a heap when her foot caught in a tangle of 
weeds as she was about to jump. 

“Are you hurt?” asked Dick, pausing and 
looking back. He didn't run back to help his 
sister, deciding to wait and see if she really 
needed it. For Janet was almost as much of 
a boy as was Dick, and she didn't cry for every 
little bump or bruise. 

“No—I’m all right,” she bravely answered, 
and up she jumped. 

Without further adventure the two Wild 
Cherries safely reached their uncle's house. 
Their mother greeted them with: 

“Well, where have you been—you two wild 
ones ?” 

“We saw a hermit!” gasped Janet. 

“And you ought to see him make things go 
by wireless!” added Dick. 

“What do they mean—a hermit?” inquired 
Mrs. Cherry of her sister-in-law. 



ioo Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


“I think they must have met Senor Paletta,” 
answered Aunt Laura with a smile. 

“Senor Paletta—what an odd name!” ex¬ 
claimed Mrs. Cherry. 

“Yes, and he is an odd man,” went on 
Mrs. Kent, who was working in the kitchen. 
“Some of the country people are afraid of him, 
but we like him, and he was very kind when 
he learned Harry was ill—in fact he put in the 
radio for us.” 

“That's what he said,” went on Dick. “We 
forgot to ask him his name, but he knew ours 
and he ran the wireless motor boat for us on 
the lake and—” 

“Were you out on the lake in a boat?” in¬ 
terrupted Mrs. Cherry. 

“No, Mother, it was only a toy motor boat,” 
explained Janet. “It wouldn't hardly hold us.” 

“I guess that’s right,” said Mrs. Kent. 
“I've heard stories about some wonderful toys 
that Senor Paletta has in his lonely cabin. I 
have never been up there, nor has Harry, for 
this hermit didn’t come until after Harry was 
taken ill.” 

“Is he really a hermit?” asked Mrs. Cherry. 

“Well, he lives all by himself, as hermits do,” 


The Spring Tree 


ioi 


answered Mrs. Kent. “But he isn’t a miser, 
or anything like that. As I say, some of the 
country people are afraid of him. They tell 
strange stories of queer lights and noises seen 
and heard around his cabin after dark. But I 
think it all has to do with his wireless work.” 

“He—he—now, he’s an— experiment!” burst 
out Dick. “And he’s going to show us a lot 
more things next time we go up.” 

“I suppose it’s all right,” spoke Mrs. Cherry, 
to her brother’s wife. 

“Oh, yes, Senor Paletta is some sort of a 
foreigner—an Italian or Spaniard, I guess, but 
he is all right. He’ll see that the children don’t 
get into danger.” 

“Well, if he can do that for very long at a 
time, he is quite a wonderful man,” laughed 
Mrs. Cherry. 

“Aunt Laura,” asked Dick, later in the day, 
“do you know there is danger to the mill if the 
water in the lake gets too high and bursts the 
dam?” 

“Oh, yes, that might happen,” his aunt an¬ 
swered. “But there is a flood gate that could 
be opened to let the water out down the gulch, 
and that would save the mill.” 


102 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Yes,” went on Dick, “if the gate was opened 
it would save the mill. But s’posin’ somebody 
—the watchman I mean—didn’t open the 
gate ?” 

“Oh, he’s always there when a big storm 
comes, to open the gate and let the water back 
of the dam out where it will do no damage,” 
said Mrs. Kent. “If the watchman couldn’t, 
or didn’t, open the gate, some one else would 
have to do it. But don’t worry about danger, 
Dick. You came up here to have fun 
and you and Janet must play and enjoy your¬ 
selves.” 

“Yes, we like it here,” said the boy. 

He and his sister had lots of fun exploring 
around the old mill that day, and once Janet 
nearly slipped into the water, but Dick pulled 
her back in time. 

The next day the mill was started, for there 
was corn and wheat to grind. Mr. Cherry and 
the foreman, Tim Gordon, with another man 
to help, started the big wheel moving, by open- 
ing a gate that let the water splash on its 
wooden paddles. 

This big wheel turned a steel shaft, or axle 
and this axle turned other wheels inside the 


The Spring Tree 


103 


mill. In their turn these wheels made the stone 
mill stones grind, and between the mill stones 
the wheat and corn was ground into fine pow¬ 
der, or flour and meal. 

To his delight Dick was allowed to help his 
father in some light tasks about the mill, and 
Janet was taken into the office, where she put 
into envelopes the bills which those who had 
grist ground must pay. 

“I’m a regular book keeper/’ Janet said with 
pride when she came in to lunch. 

However much fun it was to “work” about 
the mill, the Wild Cherries did not want to do 
that all the time. So in the afternoon their 
father, seeing that they were lagging at the 
tasks he gave them, said: 

“Come now, Wild Cherries, run out and 
play!” 

“Don’t you need us any more?” asked Dick. 

“No, thank you! We shall be able to man¬ 
age by ourselves for the rest of the afternoon, 
I think,” answered his father. 

“All right! Come on, Jan, we’ll have some 
fun!” called Dick to his sister. 

“Where you going?” she asked. 

“Up and see the hermit—Senor Paletta,” he 


104 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

answered. “We’ll appelergize for not asking 
his name.” 

“And maybe he’ll run some more toys for 
us,” added Janet. 

“Maybe,” agreed her brother, hopefully. 

They made their way up the winding path 
that led to the dammed-up lake on top of the big 
hill. They did not stop, this time, to throw 
stones into the foaming brook dashing down 
the steep side of the hill, nor did they pause to 
gather flowers. 

But, to their disappointment, when they 
reached the lone cabin, it was closed and the 
door was locked. There was no sign of the 
kind old hermit. 

“He’s gone,” said Dick, when knocks on the 
door failed to bring an answer. 

“Yes,” agreed Janet. “Well, anyhow, we 
can have some fun up here. Let’s go look at 
the danger-gate.” 

The children had given this name to the big 
wooden gate, or door, which could be raised up, 
by means of long levers, so the water back of 
the dam could rush out, doing no harm. 

Over to the danger-gate went the Wild Cher¬ 
ries. They did not go too near, for the water 


The Spring Tree 


105 


back of the dam was very deep. They looked 
at the gate house where, in times of heavy rain, 
a watchman was on duty night and day. 

Then the two looked at the smaller gate be¬ 
neath which rushed out the water that went 
down with a roar into the flume to turn the 
mill wheel. This gate was open all the while, 
and there was a strong current of water flow¬ 
ing beneath it. 

Dick and Janet tossed in bits of wood and 
watched them being sucked down, swirling, 
twisting and turnng in the foam-flecked 
current. 

“If you fell in there you couldn’t get out,” 
said Dick to his sister. 

“I’m not going to fall in,” she told him. 

Looking about for something else with which 
to amuse themselves, Dick and Janet saw a 
thin tree, growing back a little way from the 
edge of the lake. 

“Oh, I know what we can do with that!” 
cried Dick. 

“What?” asked his sister. 

“It’s a spring tree,” and the boy pointed to 
the one he meant. 

“What’s a spring tree?” asked his sister. 


io 6 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“You climb up in, and when you’re near the 
top it bends over with you. Then you hold on 
and you can spring up and down like anything 
—a regular teeter-tauter!” cried Dick with 
sparkling eyes. “I’ll spring on it first and 
then it’ll be your turn.” 

Accordingly he climbed up the sapling, or 
young tree, until, when near enough the top, 
it bent over with him. Holding on by his 
hands, Dick let the tree carry him down toward 
the ground, his weight bending it over in a 
graceful curve like a bow. Up and down 
sprang Dick, pushing himself upward by his 
feet, the tree helping by pulling him. 

“Now it’s my turn on the spring tree!” cried 
Janet after a minute or two. 

“All right,” assented her brother, kindly. 

He “boosted” Janet up the tree, and, when 
she was near the top, she felt herself bending 
over, her weight bowing the tree as Dick’s had 
done. 

But something went wrong. Janet’s hands 
slipped. 

“Oh, I’m falling!” she cried. 

But she did not fall. Her skirt caught on 
a broken, jagged branch of the little tree and, 


The Spring Tree 


107 


a moment later, Dick saw his sister, hanging by 
her dress to the tree which went springing up 
and down, bobbing poor Janet between heaven 
and earth. 

“Oh! Oh! ,, she cried. “Get me down, Dick! 
Get me down!” 

But she was above Dick’s reach, for she was 
not heavy enough to bend the tree down far 
enough so her brother could reach her. 

And there Janet hung! 


CHAPTER XI 


A WILD CHASE 

Dick Cherry was taken by surprise at 
Janet’s plight. He expected her to do as he had 
done—grasp the top of the. tree in both hands 
and teeter-tauter up and down, the sappling act¬ 
ing as a spring. But Janet had been caught by 
an accident. Her dress was fast to the tree. 

“Dick! Dick!” she cried. “Can’t you get me 
down ?” 

Dick was no coward, nor did he give up 
easily. 

“Don’t cry, Janet!” he called. “I’ll help 
you!” 

He had gone off a little way to see if he could 
catch a big bull frog after he had “boosted” 
Janet up into the tree. But, seeing his sister’s 
plight, he had come running back. 

At first Dick thought he could reach up and 
pull Janet down by her legs, for his weight, 
added to that of the little girl, would bend the 
tree over easily. 

But Janet, in her terror, had so wound her 
108 


A Wild Chase 


109 


dress around the tree that she was held close 
to it. Neither her arms nor legs reached down 
near enough to the ground for Dick to grasp. 
And Dick knew that if Janet fell down on her 
back—as she might—she would be hurt. 
Should her dress tear loose and give way, she 
would plunge down hard and suddenly. 

“Can’t you get yourself loose, Jan?” called 
Dick, standing under the tree on which his 
sister was bobbing up and down, like some 
animal caught in a spring trap. 

“No, I can’t get loose,” she answered. “Oh, 
Dick, help me down!” 

“I will if I can,” he answered. “If I was 
taller, or if I could stand on something, I could 
reach you,” he added. 

“Look around, and maybe you can see some¬ 
thing to stand on!” urged Janet. 

Dick looked. There were plenty of old 
stumps scattered about, and if he could have 
stood on one of these he would have been tall 
enough to have reached his sister. But the 
stumps were too far away and were fast in the 
ground. Even a team of strong horses would 
have hard work to pull them out. 

“Maybe you better run home and get daddy 


no Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

or mother," suggested Janet, when it was cer¬ 
tain that she was not soon going to get loose. 

“No, I don't want to do that," Dick an¬ 
swered. “You might fall when I was gone." 
Then, with a new idea, Dick called: “Jiggle 
yourself and wiggle yourself, Jan. Maybe 
that will make your dress come loose and you'll 
fall while I’m here." 

“Yes, but I don’t want to fall!" she objected. 
“I want to come down easy." 

“Well, I'll stand right under you and catch 
you," offered Dick, holding up his arms. “Go 
on—jiggle and wiggle and get your dress loose 
so you'll fall." 

“Maybe I'll bump you!" warned Janet. 

“I don’t care," said Dick bravely enough. 
“Go on—jiggle!" 

So Janet wiggled and jiggled herself, but it 
was of no use. Her dress was firmly caught 
and wound about a jagged, broken branch of 
the little tree. And the dress, being of stout 
material, did not tear. 

“I can't do it!" sighed Jan, after several 
more jiggles and wiggles. “I can't fall!" 

“Then if you're stuck there good and tight 


A Wild Chase 


hi 


I guess you won’t fall if I run down to the 
mill and get help,” said Dick. 

“Oh—I don’t like to stay here all alone!” 
sighed Janet. 

“I’ll be back soon as I can,” promised her 
brother. 

He was about to hurry away when Janet 
called: 

“I hear somebody coming! Oh, Dick! 
Somebody’s coming! Maybe it’s daddy or 
mother!” 

Dick listened. Coming through the clump 
of woods, on the edge of which stood the spring 
tree, he could hear some one approaching. 
There was the noise of rustling, dried leaves 
and the breaking of twigs under foot. 

A moment later the children saw the hermit 
—Senor Paletta—coming toward them. The 
old inventor, in an instant, took in with a glance 
what had happened. 

“Keep still!” he cried. “Don’t move, little 
girl, and I’ll get you down safe!” 

A moment later he was standing beneath 
Janet, caught as she was on the sapling. 
Senor Paletta was tall enough easily to reach 


ii 2 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


up and raise Janet. This took the strain off 
her tangled dress and it was soon loosened. 
Then the hermit set her down, right side up, on 
the ground. 

“Well, are you all right?” he asked. 

“Oh—yes,” gasped Janet, who was feeling 
rather queer. She had almost been standing 
on her head, or, at least, hanging by her heels 
for several minutes, and her face was very red. 
“I—Fm all right now,” she said. 

“Thank you,” added Dick, not forgetting his 
manners. 

“Oh, yes—thank you,” went on Janet. 

“And we're sorry we didn’t ask your name 
the other day.” 

“Ask my name!” repeated the old man in 
surprise. 

“Yes, we weren’t very polite,” said Dick. 
“You knew our name, but we didn’t ask yours, 
and when we went back to your cabin you were 
gone and—” 

“Oh, that’s all right!” chuckled the hermit. 
“I thought you knew my name—most folks 
around here do, though they aren’t very 
friendly, I must say.” 


A Wild Chase 


ii 3 

“My aunt says they’re sort of—now—afraid 
of you,” said Dick. 

“How silly! Nonsense! It’s just that they 
don’t understand,” the inventor laughed. “It 
doesn’t matter. But say, what were you do¬ 
ing, tangled up in the tree the way you were?” 
he asked Janet. 

“It was a spring tree,” explained Dick. “I 
went up first and I bobbed fine on it, but Janet 
got stuck.” 

“I should say she did!” laughed the old man. 
“Well, at last I have seen the two Cherries 
rather wild,” and again he laughed. 

“Have you got any more toys that work by 
wireless?” asked Dick, now that Janet was all 
right again. 

“Yes, but they aren’t ready to show you 
now,” the inventor answered. “Come to see 
me in about a week.” 

“We will/’ promised the children as they 
said good-bye and watched Senor Paletta take 
a path that led to his cabin. 

“What’ll we do now?” asked Dick, after a 
pause, during which he had again tried, with¬ 
out success, to catch the bull frog. 


114 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Well, I’m not going up any more spring 
trees,” declared Janet. 

“No, I guess they aren’t good for girls,” ad¬ 
mitted her brother. “But say,” he went on, “I 
know where there’s an apple tree and it’s got 
some green apples on.” 

“We shouldn’t eat green apples,” said Janet. 
“Mother told us that.” 

“I guess a little one, or maybe two, won’t 
hurt,” proposed Dick. “Come on—I know 
where the tree grows.” 

“Well, I’m not going to eat any green apples, 
but I’ll watch you eat,” said Janet. 

This satisfied Dick and he led the way 
through the woods down toward some farms 
and orchards. There was one big field in 
which grew a lone apple tree. And Dick had 
seen, from a distance, green apples growing on 
this tree. He had been hungering for some of 
this forbidden fruit ever since he noted where 
it grew. 

“Maybe whoever owns the tree doesn’t want 
you to go in and take the apples,” suggested 
Janet, when they had reached the place, and 
Dick started to crawl through the rail fence. 


A Wild Chase 


US 

“Oh, I don’t guess they’ll care if I only take 
about two green apples,” he replied. 

Janet watched him walk toward the tree. 
She saw him reach up and pick some apples 
from the low branches. Then a queer sound 
caused Janet to look off to the left. 

Coming across the field, headed straight for 
the tree, was a big black bull, shaking his head, 
bellowing and tearing up the ground with his 
sharp hoofs. 

“Oh, Dick, look out!” warned Janet. 

Dick looked and saw the on-rushing bull. 
Dropping the apples he had picked, the boy 
started to run, but the bull, with a bellow of 
wild rage, came after him. 

“Oh, dear! Oh, dear!” screamed Janet. 


CHAPTER XII 


GRUNTER THE PIG 

Janet wished that she might do something 
to save her brother from the mad bull, as Dick 
had often helped her in times of trouble. For 
the Wild Cherries got into trouble very often, 
sometimes together and sometimes separately. 
Now it was Dick who was in danger. 

“Oh, Dick! Dick! Run! Run!” screamed 
Janet. 

And you may be sure Dick was doing just 
that very thing. He very wisely decided not 
to try to run across the field, to get on the other 
side of the fence. For, though Dick was a 
very good runner for a boy of his age, he could 
not run as fast as the bull—that he well knew. 

So when he had started away from the apple 
tree, and then had seen the big, horned animal 
galloping toward him, the boy turned back to 
the apple tree as a place of shelter. 

Dick ran around the apple tree, and the bull 
116 


Grunter the Pig 117 

also ran around the apple tree. But there was 
one thing that helped Dick. Being smaller 
than the bull he could turn more quickly and 
could swing in a smaller circle. And, by run¬ 
ning around, close to the tree, Dick managed to 
keep out of the way of the bull's horns. 

Telling about it, afterwards, Janet said: 

“It was just like one of those funny pictures 
you see in the movies!” 

“Huh!” exclaimed Dick. “I didn't feel very 
funny when the bull was chasing me!” 

And you may be sure he did not. 

However he was still in danger, though, for 
a time, he managed to keep ahead of the bull. 
Around and around the apple tree they raced, 
with Janet screaming in terror on the safe side 
of the fence. Dick was fast losing his breath. 
He did not know how much longer he could 
keep up the race. 

Then Janet had a smart idea. She saw sev¬ 
eral low branches of the apple tree, not far 
above Dick's head. In fact they were so low 
that he had been able to reach up to them, and, 
without standing on his tip-toes, he had picked 
off apples. This gave Janet her clever idea. 

“Dick! Dick!'' she cried. “Grab hold of one 


n8 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

of the branches and pull yourself up in the tree! 
Then the bull can't get you! Bulls can't climb 
trees!" 

Dick heard. He was too much out of breath 
to answer, but he knew what his sister had ad¬ 
vised him to do. Just then he saw, a little way 
ahead of him, the lowest branch on the tree. 
The bull had slipped on a flat stone in the 
ground, and was almost thrown down. This 
gave the boy the very chance he needed. 

Reaching up his arms, Dick caught the low 
branch in a firm grip. He swung himself up, 
pulling himself above the ground, his run help¬ 
ing him in the leap he made. 

And, just as the bull managed to get on his 
feet again, and came rushing on, Dick pulled 
himself safely up so that he was out of danger 
when the bellowing animal, shaking his head 
and horns, rushed beneath him. 

Dick was out of danger of one sort, but the 
bull was still loose and running around the tree. 
The Cherry boy would not dare to come down 
as long as the bull was there. 

It took the animal nearly half a minute to 
discover that there was no one left to chase. 
He seemed surprised as he looked about and 


Grunter the Pig 119 

could not see Dick. Very likely the bull won¬ 
dered where that queer, racing boy had gone. 
“Why didn't he stay and let me toss him on my 
horns, or paw him with my feet?" the bull may 
have thought. 

The animal did not seem to know enough to 
look up in the tree and see Dick. Bulls are 
stupid creatures. And, even if the bull had 
seen Dick in the tree, what good would it have 
done him? 

As Janet had said, bulls can't climb trees. 

However, seeing no one near the apple tree 
for him to chase, the bull stopped racing about 
and looked for some one else to frighten. He 
saw Janet on the other side of the fence and 
rushed for her. 

“Look out!" shouted Dick, and he was won¬ 
dering whether he had not better drop down 
out of the tree and throw stones at the bull to 
drive him away from Janet. 

“Oh! Oh!" screamed Janet, as she saw the 
big animal coming toward her. She started to 
run away, but she need not have done that. 

For the bull, after rushing toward the fence, 
came to a sudden stop very close to it. The 
fence, though made of split wooden rails, of 


120 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

the kind Abraham Lincoln is said to have 
chopped out with an axe, had in it, also, strands 
of sharp, barbed wire. More than once the 
bull had tried to batter down this rail fence, 
only to be cut on the sharp points of the wire. 
So, in time, he had learned his lesson. No 
longer did he charge at fences. 

So it was the thought that he might get hurt 
if he tried to toss Janet on his horns that made 
the bull stop. There he stood, however, paw¬ 
ing the ground, shaking his big head and even 
digging his short, sharp and powerful horns 
into the earth. 

“You're all right, Janet! He won't hurt you 
now! He's afraid of the barbed wire!" 
shouted Dick from his tree. 

At the sound of the boy's voice the bull 
turned. He knew, now, what had become of 
that funny chap he had been chasing. With 
a bellow and grunt, the powerful animal 
turned and charged back again toward the 
tree. 

He was going so fast that he could not stop, 
and with head down, as all bulls charge, he 
rammed the trunk of the apple tree, jarring and 
shaking it. 


Grunter the Pig 121 

“Oh, he’s trying to jiggle you down, Dick!” 
cried Janet. 

“Well, I’m going to hold on tight, so he 
can’t!” her brother replied. 

I do not believe the bull really was trying to 
hit the tree and shake it to make Dick fall. 
Bulls don’t know enough for that. He was 
merely going so fast that he couldn’t stop until 
he hit the tree. And it didn’t hurt him much, 
for his head was very strong. 

The bull didn’t know what to do, now. He 
couldn’t seem to find any one to toss with horns 
or trample on. It was no fun to butt a tree. 

So the big farm animal walked slowly to and 
fro, now toward the fence, on the other side of 
which was Janet, and now toward the tree, in 
which Dick was still clinging. 

“Do you s’pose he’ll ever go away so you can 
come down, Dick?” asked Janet, after a while. 

“I don’t know,” was the answer. 

“Maybe I better go and tell daddy,” sug¬ 
gested the little girl. 

“Well, maybe you had,” agreed Dick. “I 
don’t want to stay up here all night.” 

But as Janet was about to leave, she and 
Dick heard shouts across the field and, looking 


122 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

in that direction, they saw some men and a 
dog running toward them. The men had 
pitchforks in their hands and they were the 
farmer and his helper coming after the bull. 

“Is anybody hurt? Did my bull horn any¬ 
body ?” anxiously cried the farmer, as he drew 
near and saw Janet at the fence. 

“No, sir! He didn't hurt me, M she an¬ 
swered. “He ran for me but he stopped. 
He's got my brother up in the tree, though!" 

“Oh, up in the tree, is he ?" asked the farmer. 
“Well, that's a good place to be when a bull 
comes after you. We'll soon put Nero back 
where he belongs, however. Ah, you bad 
chap! Chasing little children, are you?" and 
the farmer shook his sharp pitchfork at the 
bull, while the dog barked. The bull did not 
seem so angry now. Perhaps he was sorry he 
had acted so unpleasantly toward Dick and 
Janet. 

“He got out of his pasture," the farmer ex¬ 
plained, “and we've been looking for him. 
Some one said they saw him head this way and 
we came after him. Now, Nero," he called 
“you get back where you belong! Behave 
yourself!" 


Grunter the Pig 


123 


Driven by the men, who were not afraid of 
the bull because they had pitchforks to stick 
him if he turned on them, the animal was 
headed down the field. The dog nipped at his 
heels and barked at him. Altogether it was 
too much for Nero. Besides, he was tired 
from his racing about. 

“IPs all right now, my boy. You can climb 
down out of the tree,” the farmer called back 
to Dick, when the bull was far away. 

“Thank you,” Dick answered. 

Then he swung himself down, ran over and 
crawled through the fence on the other side of 
which stood Janet. The two Wild Cherries 
looked at the bull being taken back to his 
pasture. 

“That was a big adventure, wasn’t it?” 
asked Janet. 

“It sure was!” agreed her brother. He 
started back toward the field he had just left. 

“Where you going?” asked Janet. 

“I’m going back and get my apples,” Dick 
replied. “I dropped ’em when the bull chased 
me. I can get ’em now!” 

Dick was like that—he didn’t give up easily. 

“Oh—all right,” agreed Janet, for she could 


124 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

see that the bull was now far enough off to 
make it safe. The farmer’s men were mend¬ 
ing the broken place in the fence where the bull 
had gotten in. 

So Dick got his apples after all. But he did 
not eat even one. For, after taking a few 
bites, he found the fruit so very green and sour 
that he did not like it. He was goirig to toss 
the apples away when he and Janet reached a 
field in which Uncle Harry kept some pigs. 

The pigs were allowed to roam about a field, 
and in one corner was a shelter of boards where 
the animals slept at night. Dick had drawn 
back his hand, to toss away his apples, when 
he saw the pigs. 

‘Til give ’em to Grunter,” he decided. He 
and Janet had given the name Grunter to the 
largest of the pigs; a big, fat lazy chap who 
was quite tame. 

“Uff! Uff!” rumbled Grunter, rooting with 
his rubber-like nose in the dirt. Then he 
smelled the apples which Dick tossed to him 
over the fence. “Uff! Uff!” he grunted again, 
as if saying: “Thanks! Thanks!” 

“Do green apples hurt pigs?” Janet wanted 
to know. 


Grunter the Pig 125 

“Course not!” answered Dick. “Pigs can 
eat anything, same as goats!" 

Then, as he looked at the broad back of 
Grunter, Dick went on: 

“Oh, I know how we can have lots of fun! 
We'll make Grunter give us a ride!" 

Janet looked at her brother. Then she 
shook her head. 

“I'm not going to ride on a pigs back!” she 
cried. “Never! You can ride on a pig's back 
if you want to, but I'm not!" 

She started to run away. 

“Wait a minute!" called Dick. 


CHAPTER XIII 

AN UPSET IN THE MUD 

Janet walked slowly back to where her 
brother stood looking at Grunter and the other 
pigs. By this time Grunter had eaten all the 
green apples that Dick had thrown to him. 
The other pigs, none as large as Grunter, how¬ 
ever, had come up, sniffing the feast. 

“Uff! Uff!” rumbled Grunter, shoving them 
away, and rooting in the earth for more apples. 
They were all eaten, however. 

“What do you want, Dick?’' asked Janet. 

“I want to tell you how we can have some 
fun,” he answered. “We’ll have a ride with 
Grunter and—” 

“No! No! I’m not going to, I tell you! I’m 
not going to get on Grunter’s back!” exclaimed 
Janet. “You think I want to fall off a pig?” 
she asked indignantly. 

“Nobody asked you to fall off a pig!” said 
Dick. 


126 


An Upset in the Mud 127 

“Well, you want me to get on one, and if I 
get on Grunter’s back I know HI fall off — 
he’s so slippery ” and Janet shook her head 
again. 

“I’m not asking you to get on Grunter’s 
back,” and Dick started to climb the fence into 
the pig pasture. 

“What do you mean then?” 

“I mean we can make a little cart and hitch 
Grunter to it. He’s terrible strong and he 
could pull us fine. He’s real tame, too. 
Watch me scratch his back.” 

The other pigs ran away when Dick leaped 
into the pasture, but Grunter stood there, look¬ 
ing at the boy out of his funny little eyes, and 
mumbling: 

“Uff! Uff! Uff!” 

Perhaps Grunter thought Dick had more ap¬ 
ples to feed him, and so he stood waiting. At 
any rate he did not run away, and when Dick, 
with a piece of wood, reached over and 
scratched the pig’s back, Grunter seemed to like 
it very much. 

“Isn’t he funny!” laughed Janet. “Is that 
how you make him pull a wagon, Dick; by 
scratching his back?” 


128 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“No, I don't guess so,” the boy answered. 
“He'll only stand still when you scratch him. 
But if he gives us a nice ride I’ll give him a 
good lot of scratches afterward. Now come 
on, Jan, and we'll make that express wagon 
and hitch the pig to it.” 

“Will Uncle Harry let you?” Janet wanted 
to know as her brother climbed the fence again. 

“Oh, I guess so,” he replied. 

“And have you got to make a wagon?” 

“Yes, but that's easy,” said Dick. “I saw 
some wheels and a box in the mill. I can make 
a wagon all right.” 

“And do you think Grunter will pull us?” 
Janet wanted to know. 

“Sure he will, when I get him harnessed up.” 

“We could get him some green apples to 
feed him, and then he'd pull us,” Janet advised. 

“Sure! That's a good thing!” declared 
Dick. 

The children hurried home. Their first act 
was to tell their mother about the bull, for they 
always related their adventures to her, even 
when they had done wrong and gotten into 
trouble. Of course this time it was not their 
fault that the bull chased Dick. 


An Upset in the Mud 129 

“But, my dears, you must be careful/’ said 
Mrs. Cherry, when she had heard the story. 

“Yes’m, we will,” they promised. 

But were they? 

We shall see. 

Work at the grist mill was now going on 
well, with Mr. Cherry to manage it in place of 
Uncle Harry. The foreman, Tim Gordon, 
helped all he could. 

“I think we shall get money enough to save 
the mill,” said Aunt Laura. “But I do wish 
Harry would get better,” and she sighed. 

Indeed Mr. Kent was very ill, and when the 
doctor came to see him he shook his head and 
said: 

“We must hope for the best. He still has a 
good chance.” 

“Oh, don’t you worry!” and the sick man 
smiled, though he was in much pain. “I’m go¬ 
ing to get better all right!” 

“That’s the best way to talk,” said Dr. 
Hardy. 

Dick and Janet felt sorry for Uncle Harry, 
but their mother did not want them to worry 
too much and so she did not tell them how very 
ill Mr. Kent was. 


130 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

So it happened that the two Wild Cherries 
had more time to go about and play by them¬ 
selves, with no one to watch them, than, other¬ 
wise, would have been the case. For Daddy 
Cherry was busy in the mill, and Mother 
Cherry was busy in the house, helping Aunt 
Laura. 

Thus when Dick asked Tim Gordon for the 
old box and some wheels Trom a broken baby 
carriage, the foreman said: 

“Take ’em and welcome. I suppose you’ll 
be building an aeroplane out of ’em!” And he 
walked away laughing, for he liked the children 
and he had seen Dick make some toys out of 
odds and ends around the place. 

“Dick, if you can’t make the express wagon 
for Grunter to draw us in, the hermit will help 
us, maybe,” suggested Janet, as her brother 
was trying to fasten the wheels to the box. 

“Oh, I can do it,” he declared. “I guess 
Senor Paletta is too busy with his wireless to 
bother with us.” 

“Are you ever going up there to see him 
again?” asked Janet. 

“Sure we are—maybe to-morrow,” her 
brother answered. “He said maybe he’d 


An Upset in the Mud 131 

make me a little wireless all for myself.” 

‘'That'll be lovely!” murmured the little girl. 
“And I’ll let Ethel May listen in on it.” 

“Pooh! A rag doll can’t hear wireless, or 
anything else!” scoffed Dick. 

“She can so—make-believe—smarty!” re¬ 
torted Janet. 

“Oh—yes—make-believe,” admitted Dick. 
“Now hold that wheel still till I get it fastened 
on,” he directed. He would have made much 
more fun of the idea of Janet’s doll listening 
to the wireless, only Dick didn't want his sister 
to get angry and run away before he had fin¬ 
ished making the wagon. He needed her to 
help him. 

At last it was finished. Not a very fancy 
wagon was it, but, as Dick said, you could sit 
in it and the wheels went around. It had quite 
a wobbly motion, for the wheels were of dif¬ 
ferent sizes. And the wagon creaked and 
squeaked as Dick and Janet sat in it to try it. 
But it held them, and that was, as Dick said, 
something. 

“Now we’ll hitch it to Grunter and have a 
ride,” he decided. 

This was three days after the bull had chased 


132 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

Dick, for it took him and his sister all that 
time to make the little wagon. 

“Are you going to get some apples to feed 
the pig to make him go?” asked Janet. 

“I guess we'd better,” decided her brother. 
“We’ll get them first. Then we’ll have a lot 
of fun.” 

They drew the home-made cart to the edge of 
the pig pasture, and, leaving it there, went to 
the place of the lone apple tree. A careful 
look over the field showed that the coast was 
clear. The bull was not in sight. In a few 
minutes Dick had filled his pockets with green 
apples. 

Back to where Grunter grunted, with his pig 
friends, hurried the two Wild Cherries. 

“How you going to get the wagon over the 
fence?” asked Janet. 

“We’ll take down some of the rails,” Dick re¬ 
plied. 

The pigs were kept in a pasture with an 
ordinary “snake” fence around it—that is, the 
fence zig-zagged back and forth as a snake 
wiggles when he travels. And the pasture was 
so large, and the pigs had so much to eat there, 
in the shape of grass and weeds, that they did 


An Upset in' the Mud 133 

not wander away, though they might have 
done so. It takes a very strong and tight fence 
to keep pigs in a pasture if they do not want 
to stay. 

So Uncle Harry’s pigs were not wanderers, 
but remained in one big field, sleeping at night 
under the shelter of the boards. It was easy 
for Dick and Janet to take down some of the 
fence rails, and make a place through which 
they could haul their little wagon. 

“Here, Grunter! Grunter !” called Dick, toss- 
ing a green apple toward the big hog. 

“Uff! Uff!” the fat creature rumbled, 
wrinkling his rubbery nose. He came toward 
the children, while the other pigs, somewhat 
afraid, it seemed, ran away. Grunter liked 
apples, even though they were green, and he 
was soon chewing the one Dick had tossed him. 

“Now we’ll harness him up while he’s eat¬ 
ing,” said Dick to his sister. 

“You better give him another apple, ’cause 
he’s got that one ’most eaten up,” advised 
Janet. 

“I will,” said Dick, and he did. 

By keeping Grunter busy eating apples, Dick 
and his sister managed to tie around the pig’s 


134 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

neck a rope, the other ends of which were made 
fast to their little wagon. 

“How you going to drive him—you haven't 
any lines like the farmers have on their horses?" 
asked Janet, when the harnessing was finished. 

“I don’t guess I can drive him—I got to let 
him go wherever he wants to," replied 
Dick. “I’ll get in the wagon now, and you 
get in behind me. But hand me that stick, 
first." 

“What’s the stick for?" Janet asked as she 
handed it to her brother, who was already in 
the little cart. 

“That’s to scratch Grunter’s back with and 
make him feel happy." 

“Oh," said Janet, laughing. 

The two Wild Cherries took their places in 
the cart. By this time Grunter had eaten all 
the apples Dick had tossed on the ground. 

“Uff! Ufif!" mumbled the pig, looking up 
with his funny eyes. 

“Go on! Gid-dap!" cried Dick. 

But Grunter did not move. 

“He doesn’t gid-dap very good, does he?" 
asked Janet. 

“Not yet, but I’ll make him," Dick answered. 


An Upset in the Mud 135 

He tossed another green apple on the ground 
in front of, and some distance away from, the 
pig. Grunter either saw or smelled it (for 
pigs have good noses for smelling) and off he 
started on a slow run. 

“Oh, now he's gidding-ap!” cried Janet. 
“He's gidding-ap fine!" 

“He's going good!" declared her brother. 

Grunter reached the apple and to get it 
stopped so suddenly that the cart ran on and 
bumped his fat hind legs. 

“Uff! Uff!" grunted the pig in surprise. 
This seemed to be the first he knew that he was 
pulling a cart and giving the children a ride. 
Quickly he chewed up the apple, while the other 
pigs looked on, as if wondering what in the 
world their companion was doing. 

“Throw him another apple and make him 
gid-dap some more!" urged Janet. 

Dick did so. Once again the pig ran slowly 
on, dragging the little wagon. The children 
laughed. They were having a jolly good time, 
for the ground in the pasture was smooth and 
the cart, though it wobbled a bit and jolted 
them about, did not fall apart. Dick was 
afraid this might happen, as he could only find 


136 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

some rusty and crooked nails with which to 
fasten it together. 

At last, however, something happened. 

Dick had thrown another apple ahead of 
Grunter, to make him run toward it. It was 
only in this way that he could make the pig go. 
But one of the other hogs smelled the fruit and 
wanted it. He made a rush for it and, being 
nearer to it than was Grunter, took it away, 
almost from beneath Grunter’s very nose. 

“Uff! Uff!” grunted the harnessed pig, and 
this time his voice was angry. 

Away he raced after the hog who had taken 
his apple. 

“Oh, he's gid-dapping fast now!” cried 
Janet, holding to the sides of the cart. 

“Yes—too—too—too fast!" gasped Dick. 

“Oh, look where he's taking us!" suddenly 
cried the little girl. “He's going right for the 
mud-puddle!" 

The pig who had stolen the apple was racing 
toward a corner of the field where there was a 
regular hog-wallow—a low swampy place, 
filled with black mud and water. Pigs love to 
lie in mud and water to cool off and keep the 
flies away. 


An Upset in the Mud 137 

After the pig who had taken his apple raced 
Grunter. Into the mud went the first pig. 
Into the mud went Grunter. And then, before 
they could jump out, into the mud went Dick 
and Janet. 

As the wheels of the cart reached the edge 
of the hog-wallow, it upset and, a moment later, 
into the muck splashed the two Wild Cherries! 


CHAPTER XIV 


A WOODLAND PICNIC 

Lucky it was for Dick and Janet that they 
splashed into the mud sitting down, instead of 
head first. But that was about the only good 
part of their adventure with Grunter the pig. 

Grunter kept on after the pig which had 
taken his apple. And, wallowing through the 
mud, grunting, twisting and turning, Grunter 
soon pulled himself free of the little cart, to 
which he had only been tied by a rope. 

For a few moments after they had been 
pitched into the pigs’ mud-puddle, neither Dick 
nor Janet said a word. They were too much 
surprised. Then as Janet looked about her, 
and saw how muddy she was, and how muddy 
Dick was, she gasped: 

“Oh, what will mother say?” 

“I—I—now—I guess she won’t like it/’ 
murmured Dick, pulling one of his hands out 
of a muck hole. 

“I don’t guess she will, neither,” remarked 
138 


A Woodland Picnic 


139 


Janet. “Oh, Dick/’ and there was the sound 
of tears in her voice, “how am I ever going to 
get clean?” 

“I—I guess we’ll have to go swimming in 
the mill creek,” the boy answered. “We can 
go right in with our clothes on and that will 
wash off the dirt.” 

“Yes, I guess it will,” agreed Janet. “What 
made Grunter gid-dap so fast?” she wanted to 
know, for, sitting behind Dick in the cart, she 
had not seen all that happened. 

“Grunter chased another pig that took his 
apple,” explained the Cherry boy. “I couldn’t 
steer him, and he ran into this puddle and upset 
us.” 

“Grunter’s a bad pig!” declared Janet. 

“Oh, I don’t think he did it on purpose,” 
stated Dick. “I guess pigs don’t mind going 
in the mud.” 

“Well, I don’t like it,” said Janet. 

Slowly she crawled out of the hog-wallow. 
Slowly Dick followed. The little cart was ly¬ 
ing on its side in a deeper part of the mud. 
One of the wheels had come off. 

“Are you going to wade in and get it?” 
asked Dick’s sister. 


140 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“No, I guess not,” he answered. “If I want 
it I can get a pole and shove it out. But I don’t 
guess we’ll ride in it again.” 

“I’m not—anyhow!” declared Janet. “I— 
now—I might just as well have got a ride on 
Grunter’s back as this way,” she said. “And 
it’s all your fault, Dick Cherry, making me 
muddy—like this!” 

There were tears in her eyes as she looked 
at her soiled clothes. 

“Aw, don’t be a baby and cry!” urged the 
boy. “We’ll go over in the mill brook and get 
all washed off. I was going in swimming, 
anyhow. Now we can go in with our clothes 
on. It’s easier!” 

“Yes, I guess it is,” sniffed Janet, wiping 
away a tear or two. Rather she started to 
wipe them away, and when she saw how dirty 
were her hands, she didn’t want to touch them 
to her face, which had only a few splashes of 
mud on it. So she let the tears run down her 
cheeks and drop off—just two tears. Then 
she didn’t cry any more. 

“We got old clothes on, anyhow,” comforted 
Dick. “They been wet lots of times and had 
mud on them.” 


A Woodland Picnic 141 

“Yes, I guess so,” agreed Janet, with a final 
sniff. 

Sorry sights, indeed, were the two Wild 
Cherries as they came out of the pigs’ pasture. 
But it might have been worse. They might 
have been pitched into the mud-puddle head 
first, instead of sitting down in it. There was 
something to be thankful for, anyhow. 

After the water, coming down the hill from 
the lake, where it was dammed up, had turned 
the moss-grown mill wheel, it flowed into a 
brook, and it was in this brook that Dick and 
Janet had decided to wash themselves 

Dick found a calm, still pool, with a silvery- 
sand bottom and, wading in fully dressed, he 
and his sister splashed about until they were 
quite clean again, for the water soon washed 
off the mud. 

“Now we’ll sit in the sun and get dry,” de¬ 
cided Dick, “and when we go home they won’t 
hardly know anything happened.” 

“But we got to tell mother, haven’t we?” 
Janet wanted to know. 

“Oh, sure we have!” said Dick, decidedly. 

“Oh, my poor, dear little Wild Cherries!” 
cried their mother, when she saw the somewhat 


142 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

forlorn figures coming up the walk. “You 
fell in the brook, didn't you?" she asked, for 
she could see, by their partly dry clothing, that 
they had been in the water. 

“No'm, we didn't ezactly fall in," said Janet, 
truthfully enough. 

“We went in on purpose," added Dick. 

“On purpose! Oh, you shouldn't have done 
that!" cried Mrs. Cherry. 

“Well, we had to so we could get the mud 
off," went on Dick. 

“What mud?" 

“The mud from the hog-wallow. Grunter 
threw us in!" 

“What—that pig? Oh, you shouldn’t have 
gone near him. First it's a bull and then it's 
a pig! Why, you have more adventures in 
the country than you do in the city!" cried 
Mother Cherry. “How did Grunter get you in 
the mud?" she asked. 

“Well," slowly answered Dick, “I hitched 
him to a cart and—" 

You should have heard Mrs. Cherry laugh 
when she had listened to the whole story! 
And Daddy Cherry laughed, and so did Aunt 
Laura, and Miss Lufkin, and Tim Gordon; 


A Woodland Picnic 


143 


and even Uncle Harry, though he was in great 
pain, could not help smiling when he heard 
what had happened to the Wild Cherries. 

“I wish I could be up and about,” he said to 
his wife. “I could have a lot of fun with those 
youngsters!” 

“Well, you’ll soon be up, I hope,” said Mrs. 
Kent. “It’s a good thing the Cherries could 
come here to help us run the mill, even if Dick 
and Janet do splash into the mud once in a 
while.” 

“Yes,” agreed her husband, “the Cherries 
will save the mill for us, I believe. I only hope 
the dam holds.” 

“Why, is there any danger from that?” 
asked his wife. 

“Well, Senor Paletta was in here yesterday, 
to fix the wireless for me, so I could hear a 
concert from WJZ in New York,” went on 
Uncle Harry. “And he said if a big rain 
came, and there was a flood, the dam might 
give way if the flood gate wasn’t opened in 
time.” 

“But it always has been opened,” said Mrs. 
Kent. “Don’t worry about that. I’m sure 
the mill will be all right.” 


144 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“I hope so,” murmured her husband as he 
turned over on his side to rest his aching back. 

Two days after this Mrs. Cherry said: 

“Dick and Janet, I’m afraid I have been 
leaving you wild ones too much alone since you 
came up here.” 

“Oh, Mother, we’ve been having lots of 
fun!” cried Dick. 

“Yes, perhaps you have, but you have been 
getting into mischief, also. Now I must be 
with you more. Uncle Harry is a little better, 
so I am going to give you a treat.” 

“Oh, Mother, what?” asked Janet, her eyes 
sparkling. 

“We’ll have a little woodland picnic, we 
three,” was the answer. “We’ll pack lunch in 
a basket and go off in the forest.” 

“And pretend we’re Gipsies!” murmured 
Janet. 

“Yes, if you like,” said her mother. 

So they got ready for the woodland picnic, 
little dreaming what a strange adventure was 
to happen them. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE HAIRY PAW 

“Now, children,” said Mother Cherry, when 
the lunch basket had been packed, and they 
were ready to start, “I shall let you find the 
place for the woodland picnic. ,, 

“You mean you want us to take you to the 
best place ?” asked Dick. 

“Yes,” answered his mother. 

“We know lots of nice places, don’t we, 
Dick?” asked Janet. 

“Sure we do,” he replied. 

“That’s what I thought,” went on Mrs. 
Cherry. “You two wild ones have been roam¬ 
ing for many days over the woods and fields 
all by yourselves, and you must have discovered 
many lovely places for picnics. Now you may 
take me to one.” 

“Come on!” cried Janet in delight. “We’ll 
take her to the elephant tree, Dick.” 

“Oh, I think the monkey rock would be bet¬ 
ter,” said Dick. 


145 


146 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

Mother Cherry looked at the two children in 
surprise. Both Dick and Janet seemed very 
much in earnest. 

“What do you mean by the elephant tree and 
the monkey rock?” asked Mrs. Cherry. “I’m 
not quite sure I want to go on a woodland pic¬ 
nic if there are elephants and monkeys roaming 
in the forest.” 

“Oh, Mother! It isn’t anything like that!” 
laughed Janet. “The elephant tree is just 
a big one that looks like an elephant with 
his trunk stuck out! It’s just a make- 
believe!” 

“Oh, I see!” and Mrs. Cherry smiled. 
“Well, I suppose all trees are like elephants, 
aren’t they?” 

“Oh, no, Mother! Of course not!” Janet 
exclaimed. 

“Well, an elephant has a trunk and all trees 
have trunks,” and Mrs. Cherry pretended to 
be very much in earnest. 

“Ha! Ha! That’s a joke!” laughed Dick. 
“And a good joke, too! I’m going to tell Tim 
Gordon about it.” 

“But what is the monkey rock?” went on 
Mrs. Cherry, as she and the children started 


The Hairy Paw 


147 

off on the path that led over the hill and to the 
woods. 

“The monkey rock is another make-believe,” 
said Dick. “It’s just a big rock that looks like 
a monkey, and there’s a good spring of water 
near it.” 

“Well, it is always wise to have a picnic 
near where you can get a drink of water,” de¬ 
cided Mrs. Cherry, “so I should say that the 
monkey rock would be best.” 

“But there’s a spring near the elephant tree, 
too,” went on Janet. 

“Is there? Well then,” said Mrs. Cherry, 
“suppose we spend part of our picnic time at 
the elephant tree and the other part at the mon¬ 
key rock.” 

“That’ll be dandy!” exclaimed Dick. 

“Just right,” agreed his sister. 

So off to the woods they went. On the way 
Dick paused to pick up stones to throw at big 
rocks and other marks, for he wanted to see 
how straight a shot he was. Janet paused to 
pick flowers, pinning a small bunch of them on 
her rag doll, Ethel May. At last Janet picked 
a yellow buttercup and, holding it under Ethel 
May’s cloth chin, said: 


148 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“I must see if you like butter, my dear/' 

“Pooh! How can a rag doll like butter?” 
asked Dick. 

“She can so like butter! Can't she, 
Mother?” appealed Janet. “And can’t Dick 
stop making fun of Ethel May?” she asked. 

“Yes, dear, don’t make fun of your sister’s 
playthings any more than you would want her 
to make fun of yours,” said Mrs. Cherry. 

“I could make a lot of fun of your old pig 
wagon if I wanted to,” Janet went on. “Your 
pig wagon spilled us both in the mud!” 

“That was ’cause Grunter ran away,” ex¬ 
plained Dick. 

“Well, never mind,” soothed Mrs. Cherry. 
“That is over and done with. We must be 
kind and cheerful to-day. Remember I have 
never seen the elephant tree or the monkey 
rock, and I expect you two Wild Cherries to 
show me all the wonders you have discovered.” 

This made Dick and Janet forget their own 
little dispute, and with smiles they hastened 
onward. 

“Mother’ll be surprised at the elephant tree, 
won’t she, Dick?” asked his sister. 


The Hairy Paw 


149 

“She sure will,” he answered. “And at the 
monkey rock too!” 

“Oh, yes!”• agreed Janet. 

The sun was shining warm and golden in 
the forest, the wind was blowing gently, stir¬ 
ring the leaves with a pleasant rustle, the birds 
were singing and there was a spicy smell of 
flowers in the air. 

All in all it was a most wonderful day for a 
woodland picnic, and the children and their 
mother were ready to enjoy it to the utmost. 
In the basket was a fine lunch, put up by Miss 
Lufkin, who was almost as good a cook, Janet 
said, as was their own Jane at home. 

“Now we’re coming to the elephant tree,” 
called the little girl, after about a quarter of 
an hour’s walk along the path. “Let me show 
it to her, Dick, please,” she begged. 

“All right,” he agreed. “And I’ll show her 
the monkey rock when we get to that.” 

Taking the lead, Janet ran on ahead until 
she reached a certain spot. Then she paused 
and motioned with her hand for her mother to 
come on. 

“Stand right here and look,” directed Janet, 


150 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

pointing. Mrs. Cherry did so. At first she 
could make out nothing but a lot of trees and 
bushes, but when Janet told her to look at a 
trailing vine, and then at a certain oak tree, the 
mother of the Wild Cherries exclaimed: 

“Oh, I see! Yes, indeed, it does look ex¬ 
actly like a big elephant standing there! Who 
discovered it?” 

“I did,” announced Janet, a bit proudly. 
“And now well eat our lunch there.” 

Soon they were sitting on a large, low rock, 
near a big, flat stump that served for a table. 
On this stump-table Mrs. Cherry spread out 
the sandwiches and cake, and poured out some 
glasses of milk for the children. 

“We can have water to drink, too,” said 
Janet, pointing to the little bubbling spring. 

“Well if this picnic is like all others I’ve 
been on,” said Mrs. Cherry, “You’ll want to 
drink milk and water too.” 

“Picnics always make you hungry and 
thirsty,” observed Dick, as he reached for an¬ 
other sandwich. 

Half the lunch was eaten beneath the ele¬ 
phant tree, and then the children played about, 
paying more than one visit to the spring to 


The Hairy Paw 


151 

get drinks, as Mrs. Cherry had thought they 
would. Mrs. Cherry read the children a story, 
and then she saw some butterflies and bugs 
about which she talked to Dick and Janet. For 
Mrs. Cherry was a lover of nature, and knew 
much about the crawling, creeping, running 
and flying creatures of the woods. 

“Now let’s go to monkey rock,” proposed 
Dick, after a while. “We can eat the rest of 
the lunch there.” 

“Are you hungry so soon again?” his mother 
wanted to know. 

“Well, yes, I guess so,” he admitted. “Any¬ 
how I will be when we get to monkey rock.” 

“Is it far from here?” asked Mrs. Cherry. 
She would have been content to rest for a 
longer time in that lovely spot, beneath the ele¬ 
phant tree, but she had promised Dick his share 
in pointing out the wonders of the day, and she 
did not want him disappointed. 

“Oh, it isn’t so very far,” the boy answered. 
“We can go slow.” 

They started off, but Janet turned back with 
a cry. 

“I almost forgot Ethel May,” she said, and, 
running back, the little girl picked up her rag 


152 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

doll from a bed of moss where she had been put 
to sleep. 

“Well, I’m not going to forget the lunch bas¬ 
ket/’ laughed Dick, for he had a firm grasp of 
the handle. 

When the little picnic party reached a cer¬ 
tain point in the path, Dick turned back and 
said: 

“Now it’s my turn to show mother the mon¬ 
key rock.” 

“All right,” agreed his sister. 

Holding aside a bush that grew out across 
the path, Dick motioned for his mother to come 
on and take a look. This she did, and almost 
at once she saw the outline of a big monkey, 
carved by nature in a fantastic rock that jutted 
out on the side of a little glen. Down the glen 
ran a babbling brook from the spring of which 
Dick had spoken. 

“Doesn’t it look just like a monkey?” asked 
the little boy, turning to his mother. 

“It surely does!” she answered with a laugh. 
“You are two clever children to discover such 
things as these—an elephant tree and a monkey 
rock—quite wonderful!” 


The Hairy Paw 


153 

“Maybe if we looked we could find a lion 
rock or a tiger bush,” suggested Janet. 

“Well, we got to eat now,” said Dick, at 
which remark his mother laughed. 

The picnic place at monkey rock was fully 
as pretty as the one at elephant tree, except 
that the table was a large flat rock, instead 
of a stump. But, as Dick said, the things 
tasted just as good off the rock as off the 
stump. 

The last of the sandwiches had been eaten, 
and even the crumbs of cake were picked up 
by the birds, when Janet, taking Ethel May in 
her arms, walked down to where the spring 
bubbled into a basin of rock. 

“What are you going to do—let your doll 
swim?” asked Dick. 

“No, Pm going to give her a drink of water,” 
Janet answered. 

“Pooh,” Dick started off with. “A rag doll 
can’t—” 

“Dick, my dear,” warned his mother in a 
gentle voice, and he did not finish what he was 
going to say. 

Janet walked to the edge of the little rocky 


154 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

pool. Her mother and Dick saw her put Ethel 
May down on the ground. Then Janet began 
making a cup out of a green leaf. 

Suddenly Janet gave a scream, and Mrs. 
Cherry, who had looked the other way for a 
moment, thought her little girl had fallen in 
the spring. But when she glanced back she 
saw Janet standing there safe. 

Then Janet, waving her hands and scream¬ 
ing, came running up the slope. She seemed 
much frightened. 

“Pooh! I guess she got scared of a bull 
frog!” joked Dick. 

But Janet cried: 

“It’s got Ethel May! It took Ethel May! 
Oh! Oh!” 

“Who did? Who took your doll?” cried 
Mrs. Cherry. 

“A big, long hairy paw!” answered Janet. 
“A big, long hairy paw—a regular monkey's 
paw reached out of the bushes and took Ethel 
May!” 


CHAPTER XVI 

A CRY IN THE NIGHT 

Janet ran, screaming and crying, into her 
mother’s outstretched and waiting arms. 
Dick, who had been packing the empty plates 
and other dishes into the picnic basket, looked 
at his sister in surprise. 

“Hey, what’s the matter?” he asked. 

“Oh, it was a hairy paw! A monkey’s hairy 
paw reached out and took Ethel May!” sobbed 
Janet. 

There was a look of surprise on the face of 
Mrs. Cherry. She raised Janet’s head, from 
where it was bowed down in her arms, and said: 

“Janet dear, is this a play—is it make- 
believe ?” For she knew the children often had 
fun this way. 

“Oh, no, Mother! It isn’t make-believe at 
all!” gasped Janet. “It’s real!” 

“Do you mean a real monkey?” asked Dick, 
his eyes opening wide with wonder. 

155 


156 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Course I do!” declared his sister. “A real 
monkey’s hairy paw! It reached out through 
the bushes when I was getting Ethel May a 
drink, and the paw took my doll! Oh, Mother, 
do you s’pose I’ll ever get her back?” 

“Now, Janet, let me understand this,” said 
Mrs. Cherry. “Do you mean a real monkey 
—did you see him?” 

“I saw his hairy paw as plain as anything!” 
declared the little girl. “Come on, I’ll show 
you where he was.” 

“I guess it was only a bull frog she saw,” 
suggested Dick. “There’s terrible bull frogs 
in that pool by the spring—big, green frogs.” 

“It wasn’t a frog at all!” insisted Janet. 
“Don’t you s’pose I know a frog when I see 
one? Frogs haven’t got paws like a monkey!” 

“Well, a frog has something like a paw,” in¬ 
sisted the boy. 

“But it hasn’t got hair on!” 

“No,” Dick had to admit, “a frog hasn’t any 
hair.” 

“Well, this was a hairy paw and it took Ethel 
May!” 

“Let’s go down there and see what there is to 
be seen—if anything,” suggested Mrs. Cherry. 


A Cry in the Night 157 

“I suppose you really saw it, Janet/’ she added, 
somewhat doubtfully. 

“I'm sure I saw the monkey’s paw!” de¬ 
clared Janet. “Anyhow, my doll is gone, and 
if somebody didn’t take her, where is Ethel 
May?” 

She pointed to the place where she had put 
the doll down. Her mother and Dick had seen 
Ethel May lying there—now Ethel May was 
gone—there was no doubt of that. 

Slowly, and hardly knowing what to think of 
the strange adventure, Mrs. Cherry followed 
Dick and Janet down to the edge of the 
pool that was formed by an overflow of the 
spring. 

“There’s where I laid my doll down,” ex¬ 
plained Janet, pointing to the spot. Dick re¬ 
membered it, for he had noticed a little bush 
growing up and drooping over, like a canopy, 
to cover the rag doll. 

“And where did the hairy paw come from?” 
asked Mrs. Cherry. 

“Right out there—from that hole in the 
bushes,” and Janet pointed a trembling finger 
at the place. 

Mrs. Cherry stepped forward to look more 


158 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

closely, thinking, perhaps, some waving branch 
of a tree might have been blown down by the 
wind; might have become entangled in the 
doll's dress and so have lifted it up. Janet 
might have mistaken the brown bark on the 
tree branch for the hairy paw of a monkey. 

But, even as Mrs. Cherry looked, there was 
a rustling in the leaves of the trees overhead— 
a rustling not caused by the wind. And there 
was a queer, chattering noise. 

“It's a squirrel!” cried Dick. 

“No, it isn't a squirrel—look! It's a mon¬ 
key —a real monkey!” shouted Janet, pointing. 

And, surely enough, it was! 

Perched on a tree branch, over the heads 
of the members of the little picnic party, was a 
brown, hairy monkey. In his paws he grasped 
Janet's doll—Ethel May. And the monkey 
leaped about, winding his strong tail around 
tree limbs, and chattering and showing his 
teeth as if angry at something. 

“Why—why—it is—a real monkey!" gasped 
Dick, and his voice showed not fear but de¬ 
light. 

Mrs. Cherry rubbed her eyes to make cer¬ 
tain she was not looking at something in a day- 


A Cry in the Night 159 

dream. But surely the children could not 
“make-believe” as real as this. 

“It is a monkey and he's got my doll!” cried 
Janet. 

“Mother, how do you s'pose a monkey got 
here?” asked Dick. “Is he from a circus, do 
you think?” 

The children knew that monkeys did not 
live in the woods and country around Uncle 
Harry's mill. Monkeys are tropical animals 
and must have the warmth of the jungle, where 
it never freezes, to make them happy. 

“This is the strangest thing—” began Mrs. 
Cherry. 

But suddenly there came another interrup¬ 
tion. There was more rustling in the bushes 
and forth came—an Italian organ grinder, 
smiling and bowing, showing his white teeth. 
Over his back was slung his organ. 

“Ah!” he murmured as he saw the two Wild 
Cherries and their mother. “You hava seen, 
mebby—da monk? You hava seen my Peeto?” 
He was asking questions in his own queer way. 

“Is that your Peeto up there?” inquired Mrs. 
Cherry, pointing. 

The Italian gave one glance upward, caught 


160 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

sight of the brown, furry body and cried out: 

“Yaas, dat's my Peeto! Ah, you bada da 
monk! Come down to your papa queek! 
Come down queek, my Peeto!" 

He held up his hands. The monkey in the 
tree tops chattered and scolded. 

"He's got my doll!" Janet informed the 
organ grinder. 

"Yaas, hee's gotta your doll, li'l gal? Das 
too moocha da bad! Bad Peeto! Come down 
to papa, queek!" 

Dick and Janet were too much excited to 
laugh at the organ grinder calling himself the 
monkey's "papa." It did not strike them as 
being funny at the time though, later, they 
chuckled over it. 

Peeto, the brown, furry monkey, chattered 
and scolded up on his perch in the tree. He 
held Ethel May tightly in his paws. He did 
not seem to want to come down. 

"Ah! I feex him!" laughed the organ 
grinder. "He is one bad monk—is Peeto! 
He ran away from me when I maka da music. 
But I find him! Here, Peeto! Come down 
an' eata da banan!" 

He took from his pocket a yellow banana, 



He took from his pocket a yellow banana and 

held it up. 














































































A Cry in the Night 161 

and held it up. Seeing this the monkey chat¬ 
tered again, leaped about in the tree and then 
hung head down, swinging by his tail. 

“Oh, look at him!” cried Dick in delight. 

“Has he got my doll yet?” asked Janet. 

“Yes, he's giving her a good swing!” 
laughed Dick. Of course he could not expect 
to be as worried over the fate of Ethel May 
as was her little mistress. 

“Oh, I want my doll!” wailed Janet. 

“No cry!” exclaimed the Italian. “Peeto he 
come down queek when he seea da banan! He 
bring yo’ doll down all same queek, too!” 

And, surely enough, that is just what Peeto 
did. Down he came scrambling through the 
tree branches, carrying Janet’s doll with him. 
The sight of the banana was too much for the 
monkey. In another moment he had swung 
himself up on top of the hand organ. Drop¬ 
ping Ethel May, Peeto reached for the banana 
his master held out to him, and he ate it 
hungrily while Janet caught up her beloved 
doll. 

“Now everyt’ing alia da right!” laughed the 
organ grinder. 

In his broken way he told Mrs. Cherry that 


162 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

he had been traveling about the country, play¬ 
ing his tunes and letting Peeto gather pennies 
in his little red cap. Then, while playing not 
far from the woods in front of a farm house, 
Peeto had broken his cord and had run away. 

The monkey must have been hidden in the 
bushes when Janet laid her doll down by the 
spring, and have reached out his hairy paw to 
pick up Ethel May. 

“I guess he thought she was banana, 
maybe!” chuckled Dick. 

“Huh! I guess my doll is better than a whole 
bunch of bananas!” declared Janet. 

The Italian organ grinder, who said his 
name was Carlos, took off his hat, bowing 
good-bye to Mrs. Cherry and the children. 
Peeto, also, doffed his little red cap which he 
had left behind on the organ when he ran away, 
but which his master put back on the small, 
hairy creature. Then the two went away to¬ 
gether. 

“I wish he’d played us a tune,” said Dick. 

“Yes, then Ethel May could have danced,” 
added Janet. 

Dick was going to say that a rag doll 
couldn’t dance, but he thought his sister had 


A Cry in the Night 163 

been teased enough for one day, so he kept 
silent. 

“Well, we have had several adventures,” said 
Mrs. Cherry a little later, “and now I think it 
is time to go back home—back to the mill I 
mean/' 

“We had a dandy picnic/’ said Dick. 

“It’s nice now, but it wasn't so nice when 
Ethel May was gone/' sighed Janet. “I'm 
glad I got her back.” 

Through the woods and fields they walked 
to the mill, the golden sun sinking low in the 
west behind a bank of clouds. 

“It looks like a storm,” said Mrs. Cherry. 

“Do you think it will be a big one, so the dam 
will burst?” Janet asked. 

“No, of course not!” laughed her mother. 
“Don't think about such things!” 

Uncle Harry was not quite so well when 
the Wild Cherries and their mother reached 
the mill house. Dr. Hardy had been sent for 
and Aunt Laura looked worried. The sky be¬ 
came overcast with dark clouds, and the signs 
of a storm grew more plain. 

However everything seemed safe and snug 
in the house when Dick and Janet went up to 


164 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

their bed rooms after supper. They were 
tired from the day's picnic—a clean, healthy, 
happy tiredness, though. 

Both children were soon sound asleep. 
Mrs. Cherry remained up a little later than 
usual to help Aunt Laura give Uncle Harry his 
medicine. And when Mrs. Cherry at last 
started for her room she could hear the mourn¬ 
ful wailing of the wind outside. 

“It's going to be a bad night/' she said to 
her husband. 

It was several hours later that she was sud¬ 
denly awakened by hearing Dick cry out: 

“Oh, the dam is breaking! The dam is 
breaking and the water is coming in !” 


CHAPTER XVII 


THE LITTLE WIRELESS 

“What’s that?” exclaimed Mr. Cherry, 
awakening soon after his wife. He, too, had 
heard his little son’s cry in the night. 

“It’s Dick,” answered Mrs. Cherry, quickly 
putting on a dressing gown and slippers. 

“He said something about the dam break¬ 
ing,” went on Mr. Cherry as he sprang out of 
bed. “I hope—” 

“Hark!” exclaimed his wife. 

To their ears came a roaring, splashing 
sound. 

“It’s raining dreadfully hard,” Mrs. Cherry 
said. 

“And there’s water loose, somewhere,” went 
on her husband. “I hope there is nothing 
wrong at the dam or flood gate. If there is 
the mill might go!” 

Again came Dick’s call: 

“The dam is breaking! The dam is break¬ 
ing l” 


166 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Nonsense! He can’t know anything about 
the dam when he’s in bed!” said Mr. Cherry. 

“Perhaps he is dreaming,” suggested his 
mother. “Dick sometimes has bad dreams, 
and he may have eaten too much picnic 
lunch.” 

And a bad dream was all it proved to be. 
For when Mrs. Cherry went to her son’s room 
she found him sitting up in bed, though his 
eyes were closed, and he was murmuring: 

“Look out for the high water! The dam is 
going to break!” 

“Dick! Dick, wake up, my dear! You are 
having a bad dream!” she said, gently shaking 
him. “And no wonder you are dreaming 
about water, my son,” she added. “Your win¬ 
dow is open too much and the rain is blowing 
in on you.” 

And that is just what had happened. Dick 
had taken a little more cake than was good ■‘for 
him, and when he fell asleep he dreamed there 
was a flood and that the dam above the mill 
was about to break. The rain, dashing in his 
open window and splattering on his face, made 
the dream seem very real to Dick, and he had 
called out the alarm. 


The Little Wireless 167 

He was soon awakened and quieted, going 
to sleep again almost before his mother had 
time to shut the window against the storm. 
And it was a severe storm, much rain falling, 
with the wind howling. 

“I'm glad there is no thunder or lightning, 
though,” said Mrs. Cherry as she went back to 
bed. “The lightning always makes Janet very 
much frightened.” 

“There's a lot of water falling,” said Mr. 
Cherry. “I wonder if the dam is all right?” 

“Why, do you believe in Dick's dream?” 
asked his wife. 

“Not exactly. But I'd like to know that 
everything was all right up at the dam.” 

Mr. Cherry soon found out that there was 
looking after her ill husband, and when she 
nothing to fear, however. Mrs. Kent was up, 
heard her guests moving about she went to 
their room to ask if anything was wrong. 
They told her about Dick's bad dream, and Mr. 
Cherry spoke about the dam. 

“The water in the lake will get higher with 
all this rain,” he said. 

“Yes,” agreed Mrs. Kent, “but the watch¬ 
man at the flood gate telephoned to me a little 


168 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

while ago that he was on duty, and had opened 
it. That’s why the mill brook is roaring and 
gurgling so—it has more water in than usual. 
But most of the flood water goes down a big 
valley on the other side of the lake.” 

“Oh, is there a telephone from your house 
to the gate house?” asked Mrs. Cherry. 

“Yes,” Aunt Laura answered. “It is there 
so that, in flood times, or when there are 
storms, we can talk to the watchman and he 
can talk to us.” 

“A good idea,” said Mr. Cherry. “If any¬ 
thing were to happen that the flood gate wasn’t 
open when the water got too high, the mill 
might go.” 

“Yes, and we would lose everything,” said 
Mrs. Kent. “We wouldn’t want that to hap¬ 
pen. But the watchman always opens the gate 
when the lake gets too high for the dam.” 

The storm kept up all night, though it died 
away toward morning. Dick and Janet were 
not disturbed, however, and when daylight 
came, though it still drizzled, there was not the 
heavy downpour that had lasted all through 
the hours of darkness. 

“Did I really yell out in my sleep about the 


The Little Wireless 169 

dam breaking ?” asked Dick at the breakfast 
table, when told of his night alarm. 

“You surely did,” his mother told him. 

“That’s funny!” laughed the little boy. “I 
don’t remember a thing about it!” 

“I didn’t hear anything,” said Janet. 

“And I’m glad you didn’t,” remarked her 
mother with a smile. 

The day was too stormy for the Wild 
Cherries to venture out, so they had to amuse 
themselves in the house. They were allowed 
to go in the mill, however, as it was only a 
short distance away. 

Storm or calm, the business of the mill must 
go on, and even in the rain some farmers came 
with bags of grain or corn they wanted ground. 
Janet and Dick had fun watching their father 
and Tim Gordon operate the machinery, and 
once Dick was allowed to pull the lever that 
started the small turbine wheel going, to turn 
a mill that ground corn into chicken feed. 

Uncle Harry was a little better by morning, 
though he was far from being out of danger. 
Dick and Janet heard their father and mother 
speaking to Aunt Laura, and the word “opera- 
tion” was mentioned in whispers. 


170 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

‘‘What’s a operation?” asked Janet of her 
brother. 

“I don’t know, but it’s something pretty bad, 
I guess,” he answered, “for I saw Aunt Laura 
crying when she thought nobody was looking. 
They make operations in hospitals.” 

However, though there was worry for the 
older folk, none was allowed to mar the happi¬ 
ness of the children. 

All day it rained, sometimes hard and again 
gently until, even with all the fun they could 
have in the mill, Dick and Janet were begin¬ 
ning to wish they might go out and play. 

“It isn’t very wet,” said Dick to his mother. 

“Please couldn’t we go out if we put rub¬ 
bers on?” Janet begged. 

“No, my dears, I’d rather you wouldn’t,” 
their mother said. “I am afraid Dick’s stom¬ 
ach is a little upset, and that is why he had the 
bad dream last night. Better stay in until it 
clears up.” 

The two Wild Cherries fretted a little be¬ 
cause they must remain in, but their mother 
knew what was best. However, they were 
making her a bit nervous by teasing so often 
to be allowed to go out when there came an in- 


The Little Wireless 171 

terruption in the way of a ring at the door bell. 

“Oh, it’s the hermit!” cried Janet, looking 
from a side window. 

“Do you mean Sehor Paletta?” asked Mrs. 
Cherry. 

“Yes, and he’s got something under his arm 
—a package,” reported Dick, crowding up to 
the same window where Janet was standing. 

“Here, you quit shoving me!” she com¬ 
manded. “I was here first!” and she pressed 
her nose quite flat against the glass. 

“Well, give me half, can’t you?” begged 
Dick. “You don’t want all the window, do 
you ?” 

“I want my share,” insisted Janet. “There 
you can come this far and that’s all,” and she 
made an imaginary line on the sill with her 
chubby finger. 

“That isn’t half!” declared Dick. “You’re 
trying to take the biggest part. Go on—shove 
over!” 

“I will not! Mother, make Dick quit push¬ 
ing me!” cried Janet. 

“Children! my dears!” gently chided Mrs. 
Cherry, and then Janet, knowing she was in the 
wrong, moved a little to one side and said: 


172 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Well, there’s the middle, anyhow,” and she 
drew another line. 

“Yes—that’s half all right,” agreed Dick, 
now satisfied. By this time Miss Lufkin had 
gone to the door to let in Senor Paletta or the 
hermit, as he was often called. 

“Is there anything the matter up at the 
dam?” asked Mrs. Kent, coming in the room 
to greet her visitor. 

“At the dam—something wrong? Oh, no, 
all is right there,” the Italian inventor an¬ 
swered. “Why should you think so?” 

“I guess it’s because of a bad dream Dick 
had in the night,” said Mrs. Cherry. “He 
dreamed the dam was broken.” 

“Which I hope may never happen,” mur¬ 
mured the Italian. “But it is Dick and Janet 
I have come to see,” he went on with a smile, 
placing a package on the table. “I have a pres¬ 
ent brought them.” 

Sometimes Senor Paletta spoke English a 
bit backward. 

“Oh, what is it?” cried Dick. 

“For us?” exclaimed Janet. 

“Yes, a little wireless all for you—so that 
you may hear the music, stories of the beds (he 


The Little Wireless 173 

meant bedtime stories, I suppose) and songs. 
I have a little wireless brought you!” 

Dick and Janet looked on with shining eyes 
and eagerness as Senor Paletta opened the 
wrapping paper. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


DOWN A HOLE 

“Say, that’s great!” exclaimed Dick. 

“Just wonderful!” echoed Janet. 

“I am glad you like him—I mean it/’ and 
Senor Paletta corrected himself. 

With eager eyes the two Wild Cherries 
looked at the small but complete wireless outfit 
the inventor had made for them. It was in a 
black box, with shining knobs and levers here 
and there. Dials there were, also, just as on a 
big wireless outfit. 

“How does it work?” Dick wanted to know, 
after he and his sister had spoken their thanks. 

“And where is the waveral—I mean the 
aerial ?” asked Janet, for she knew the wireless 
that had been put in Uncle Harry’s house 
needed a long outside aerial in order that the 
distant broadcasting stations might be picked 
up. 

“The aerial is all inside,” explained the in- 
174 


Down a Hole 


175 


ventor. “It is what is called a loop aerial. 
All you need to do, to listen to the music and 
the bed—I mean the bedtime stories/' and he 
laughed at his mistake, “all you need to do is to 
put the telephones on your ears and turn these 
knobs until you hear what you want. Like 
this." 

He quickly adjusted a set of head telephones 
on Dick and next one on Janet. Senor Paletta 
then turned some of the knobs on the front of 
the black box. In another moment smiles 
spread over the faces of the children. 

“I hear music!" cried Dick. 

“So do I!" added his sister. 

“I thought you would," said the inventor. 

“Does it have a loud speaker?" Dick wanted 
to know, when the wireless had been turned 
off after the music from a distant station had 
played. 

“No, it is too small to operate a loud 
speaker," said the Italian. 

“I think it's a lot nicer without a loud 
speaker!" exclaimed Janet quickly. She did 
not want their hermit friend to think they did 
not like the present he had brought them. 

“Oh, so do I!" cried Dick. “It's a lot more 


176 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

fun to listen with the telephones on your ears.” 

“I am glad you like him—I mean the wire¬ 
less I have made for you,” went on Senor Pa- 
letta. “He is all for yourself—the two Cher¬ 
ries who are so wild!” and he smiled at the 
children. 

“Pm sure it is very kind of you to go to all 
this trouble,” said Mrs. Cherry who, with her 
husband, had been looking at the new wireless. 

“It is of no trouble at all,” said the inventor. 
“I love children!” 

“And we like you—don't we, Dick?” asked 
Janet. 

“We sure do!” replied her brother. 

“Will that small outfit really pick up distant 
stations?” asked Mr. Cherry. 

“Of a sureness it will!” declared the Italian. 
“I show him to you. He is easy!” 

He gave a pair of telephones to Mr. Cherry 
who was soon listening to a far-off concert, 
after Senor Paletta had turned some knobs and 
handles on the wireless box. 

“Well, that's fine!” cried Mr. Cherry. 
“Only I wonder if the children will know how 
to work it—they may break it.” 

“He is very simple—I made him so on pur- 


Down a Hole 


i 77 


pose that the Cherries who are wild would 
have no trouble,” and again the inventor 
smiled. “It is just that they turn some knobs 
so and some handles this way. I shall show 
you, Senor Cherry, and your good wife and 
you can teach the children.” 

“That will be fine,” answered Mr. Cherry. 

Dick and Janet were delighted with their new 
plaything, which was more than a toy. Miss 
Lufkin and Aunt Laura listened in, and then 
the outfit was carried to the room where Uncle 
Harry lay ill. He was feeling a little better 
that day and he was much pleased with the 
little wireless outfit, to which he listened. 

There was no more teasing on the part of 
Dick and Janet to go out in the rain. They 
had enough to keep them busy now, and they 
soon learned to tune in their own wireless set 
as well as their father could do with the larger 
one that had been put up for Uncle Harry. 

Sunshine came next day to dry up the water 
that had fallen, and the Wild Cherries could 
play outside. But every now and then they 
would come in to listen to their wireless. 

But this was not all that Senor Paletta did. 
A few days later, when Dick and Janet came 


178 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

back from having gone fishing (catching only 
a mud turtle as it happened) they found the 
Italian busy in the living room of Uncle 
Harry's house. 

“Are you making another wireless?" asked 
Dick. 

“Somewhat—yes," was the answer. The 
Italian was so busy with wires and switches, 
with vacuum tubes that faintly glowed, and 
other queer things, that he hardly looked up. 

“He is trying to put in a sending set," whis¬ 
pered Mrs. Cherry to her children. “He 
thinks perhaps he'd hear us if we talk into this 
horn, even when he is up in his cabin near the 
lake. And we know we can already hear him 
when he talks to us from there; for we have 
done that." 

“Do you mean we’re going to have a sending 
station here and a hearing station, too?" asked 
Dick. 

“Yes, if it works as Senor Paletta thinks it 
will work," said Mrs. Cherry. 

“And he will work—I am sure!" exclaimed 
the Italian, as he got up from the floor where 
he was half under a table on which some of the 


Down a Hole 


179 

new wireless stood. “We are almost ready 
to try him.” 

And, a little later, when the hermit had gone 
back to his lonely cabin, Mr. Cherry talked, 
shouted and sang into the horn that had been 
put on the table. 

“I wonder if he heard me?” said the father 
of the Wild Cherries. 

“We’ll know pretty soon,” said Mrs. Cherry. 
“He told us to turn this switch, and then he 
can talk to us by wireless.” 

And, lo and behold! When the switch was 
turned, out of the horn came the voice of the 
Italian saying: 

“I heard you very well, Senor Cherry. 
Now let the little ones who are wild talk to me.” 

Then Dick and Janet talked, laughed and 
sang into the horn and, by means of the won¬ 
derful wireless, their voices were sent through 
the air for two miles or more to the cabin of 
the hermit on the shore of the high lake. 

“This is wonderful!” exclaimed Mr. Cherry. 
“It’s just as good as if we had a telephone from 
his cabin down to our house here, and we can 
talk back and forth just as easily.” 


180 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

Of course you all know that wireless waves 
can be sent for a much longer distance than 
two miles, so what Senor Paletta did was not 
more than other inventors have done. But he 
made his set so simple that even Dick and 
Janet could work it. And it was not every 
boy and girl who had a sending set as well as 
a receiving one. 

And the time was to come when this little 
sending set, which the Italian inventor had put 
in to amuse the Wild Cherries, would have a 
part in a very strange happening. 

“This is great !” cried Dick, when several 
messages had been sent back and forth, from 
the house to the hermit’s cabin. “We can talk 
to him and he can talk to us and there aren’t 
any wires in between like telephone wires.’ , 

“And we can sing, too,” added Janet, who 
was fond of songs and music. 

“Yes, we can sing,” agreed Dick. “But I 
like talking better.” 

The Wild Cherries were certainly having 
good times in the country. Of course they 
wished Uncle Harry would get better, and, as 
the days went on, and Mr. Cherry worked hard 
to keep up the business of the mill, the children 


Down a Hole 181 

thought that everything would, some time, 
come out all right. 

“Is Uncle Harry any worse to-day, Mother ?" 
asked Dick one morning, when he had seen 
tears in his Aunt Laura's eyes. 

“Well, a little worse," answered Mrs. 
Cherry. “But perhaps he will be better to¬ 
morrow." 

“He won't lose the mill, will he?" Janet 
wanted to know. 

“We hope not," Mrs. Cherry went on. 
“Your father is working hard to keep the busi¬ 
ness going. If no accident comes I think all 
will be well." 

“Maybe there’ll be an accident to the dam," 
suggested Dick. “It might wash away like I 
dreamed it did." 

“Oh, I hope not!" exclaimed his mother. 
“Now you children run out and play and don't 
think so much about sickness and troubles at 
the mill. I dare say everything will end 
happily." 

Dick and Janet ran out to play, but, as they 
often did, they wandered back to the mill after 
a while. They loved the dusty place with its 
rumbling, rattling machinery. Best of all they 


183 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

loved to sit on the bank and watch the great, 
mossy-green wheel turn with the splashing 
water. 

“Let’s go up stairs in the mill,” suggested 
Dick to his sister, after a while. “Maybe 
we’ll see some of the big rats!” 

“Oh, all right,” she agreed. “But I’m going 
to take a stick along to hit a rat if he comes for 
me.” 

“I’ll take a stick, too,” decided Dick. “But 
I don’t guess any rats will come for us. They 
always jump in their holes when they see us. 
Are you scairt?” 

“No, I’m not scairt of a rat—in day time,” 
and Janet added the last three words after a 
moment of thought. 

“I guess I wouldn’t like ’em at night,” ad¬ 
mitted Dick. “You can’t see to hit ’em then 
if they come for you.” 

Uncle Harry’s mill, like all places where 
grains are stored, was plentifully supplied with 
rats. Several cats and a number of traps did 
not keep the hungry, gnawing creatures away. 

Dick and Janet had often seen the rats scur¬ 
rying about when they went up into the 
upper rooms of the mill where corn and other 


Down a Hole 


183 

grain was sometimes stored. For Uncle 
Harry not only ground grist for the farmers, 
but he bought wheat, oats and barley and sold 
it again. Between the time of buying and sell¬ 
ing he stored the grain in the upper part of 
the mill. 

The rats and mice knew this, of course, and 
grand feasts they.had, coming out from their 
nooks, holes and corners when no one was 
around. But, as Dick had said, the rats nearly 
always scurried for their hiding places when 
they heard footsteps. The children liked to see 
them run. 

So into the upper story of the mill went the 
Wild Cherries. Tim Gordon, who was watch¬ 
ing a lot of wheat being ground up into flour 
to make bread, saw the children going up the 
stairs and called to them. 

“Be careful, now,” he warned. 

“We will,” promised Dick. 

On tiptoe, as they reached the head of the 
stairs, went Dick and his sister. They wanted 
to see a rat before the creature should hear 
them. But rats have sharp ears, and, just as 
the heads of the brother and sister appeared 
above the floor, several of the biggest rats in 


184 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

the mill knew that they were being spied upon. 
With squeaks of surprise they dashed for their 
holes. 

“Look at 'em go!" cried Janet, who was not 
at all afraid. 

“There! I almost hit one!" cried Dick, 
flinging his stick at the last rat of the company. 
“I nearly banged him before he got in his 
hole!" 

The children knew, from what had happened 
at other times, that the rats would not come 
back while they were there. So, having seen 
the creatures, and having enjoyed the thrill of 
watching them scatter, Dick and Janet looked 
about for something else to do. 

“Look, there's a little door I never saw open 
before," and Dick pointed to one set in the floor 
off at one side. 

“Oh, what a funny little door!" exclaimed 
Janet. “I wonder what goes down it!" 

Before Dick could warn her to keep away, 
the little girl ran toward the hole, the trap door 
of which was turned back. The next moment, 
to her own surprise and that of her brother, she 
stumbled and fell into the opening. 


Down a Hole 185 

“Oh, look out!” shouted Dick. But it was 
too late. 

“Dick! Dick!” screamed Janet. “I’m fall¬ 
ing down a hole! Oh, get me out! Get me 
out!” 

Then her voice died away as if she had gone 
into a tunnel. 


CHAPTER XIX 

OUT OF THE WINDOW 

Dick Cherry did not know much about a 
grain mill. But when he saw his sister van¬ 
ish down the hole in the floor he knew that he 
must do something to help. 

Over he ran to the edge of the opening, and 
looked down. To his surprise he could see 
nothing of Janet. She was gone! There 
were some kernels, or grains, on tiny ledges at 
the side of the hole, but no little girl. 

“Janet! Janet!” cried Dick. 

There was no answer. The little Cherry 
boy looked down into what seemed like a long, 
wooden box, with smooth sides. Though he 
did not know it, this was a grain chute—a sort 
of wooden tunnel—down which corn, oats, 
barley or other grains could slide. 

“And Janet fell down there!” murmured 
Dick, out loud, though speaking to himself, for 
there was no one else in that part of the mill. 

186 


Out of the Window 187 

That is, if you don’t count a big, gray rat 
which, just then, stuck his pointed nose and 
curling whiskers up out of his hole. 

He was one of the rats that had scurried 
away when the children first tiptoed up the 
stairs in the mill. After Janet had fallen and 
had cried out, and Dick had shouted, there was 
silence for a few seconds. Out came Mr. Rat 
again. But when he saw Dick—Oh, you 
should have seen him run for his hole and van¬ 
ish down it! 

“It was just like when Janet fell down her 
hole!” exclaimed Dick, telling about it after¬ 
ward. 

“It wasn’t my hole!” objected Janet. “I 
didn’t want it!” 

But this was after Janet had been rescued 
from the hole. Just now she was in it and 
Dick was much frightened. Still he knew he 
must do something to help. 

“Janet! Janet!” he called, bending down over 
the opening, but taking care not to get too close 
for fear he might slide along the slippery floor 
and fall in. For the mill floor was smooth, 
shiny and slippery from years of use. 

When Dick found that Janet did not reply, 


188 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


and when he could see nothing but darkness 
down in the hole, the little Cherry boy knew 
he must go for help. He wanted his father or 
his mother or Tim to come and do something. 

Down the stairs rushed Dick. Tim was 
grinding some grain and was standing near the 
big, whirling wheels, between which wheat was 
turned into flour to make bread. 

“Oh, Tim! Tim!” shouted Dick, raising his 
voice to make it heard above the whirr of the 
machinery. 

The foreman seemed to guess that something 
had happened. Perhaps he could tell by Dick’s 
voice, or from the look on Dick’s face. 

“What’s the matter?” asked Tim. He pulled 
a handle which shut off some of the machinery, 
and when this had stopped it wasn’t quite so 
noisy in the mill. 

“Janet—Janet—she’s gone!” gasped Dick. 

“Gone? Where?” Tim wanted to know. 

“Down a hole!” replied the Cherry lad. 

“Down a hole? Do you mean the grain 
chute on the second floor?” asked Tim. 

“I don’t know what it was, but she went 
down the hole,” and Dick was almost ready now 
to shed a few tears—not exactly to cry, but 


Out of the Window 


189 


just to let a few tears fall. For he feared 
something terrible had happened to poor Janet. 

“Come on! I think I know where to find 
her!” shouted the foreman. Dick looked 
around for his father, but Mr. Cherry was not 
in the mill just then. Dick hurried after Tim, 
who was covered with white flour, as any miller 
should be. 

Tim ran out to a platform at one side of the 
mill, where wagons backed up to be loaded. 
At this platform was a large wooden chute, 
something like the big water pipes by which 
locomotives on the railroad are given a “drink” 
when they are “thirsty.” 

This wooden pipe, or chute, was hanging 
over a big box wagon, and a man on the wagon, 
to which were harnessed two horses, was pull¬ 
ing a rope which opened a door, or gate, inside 
the chute. 

Just as Dick and Tim reached the platform, 
the man on the wagon had pulled the rope. 
The chute was opened. Down into his wagon 
flowed a stream of grains—chicken feed it was. 

And after the first rush of the chicken feed 
grain something red flashed out. There was 
a startled cry from the object in red. There 


190 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

was a shout of surprise from the man on the 
wagon. Dick gasped and Tim laughed. 

“There she is!” cried the mill foreman. 

“Why—it's Janet!” exclaimed Dick. 

“A little girl!” yelled the man on the wagon. 

The red object gave itself a shake and Janet’s 
dress, which had been ruffled up over her head, 
hung down where it belonged as she stood up 
in the wagon. For Janet it was who had slid 
down the grain chute, after falling into the hole. 
And she had been shot right out into the wagon 
with the grain. 

The man who had come to the mill for a load 
of chicken feed was too surprised to reach up 
and shut off the flowing stream of grain by 
pulling on a second rope. And as he and Janet 
stood there in the wagon, the grain, piling up, 
was soon almost to the little girl’s knees. Of 
course the man, being taller, had his knees far¬ 
ther up his legs, and the grain was only just 
above his shoe tops. 

“I thought she’d come down this chute!” ex¬ 
plained Tim with another laugh. “That’s why 
I came out here.” 

“How—how did it happen?” asked Dick, 
wonderingly. 


Out of the Window 


191 


The man on the wagon, by this time, had 
shut off the flow of feed. He looked at Tim 
and asked: 

“Say, are you giving away presents with 
every load these days?” 

“Not exactly!” chuckled Tim. “It was an 
accident.” 

As for Janet, after catching her breath two 
or three times—her breath that had nearly got¬ 
ten away from her—she seemed to be all right. 
She was covered with dry dust, though. 

And when she gave herself a little shake, 
to get her dress in proper position, a cloud of 
dust floated about her and the man on the 
wagon. 

“Ker-choo! Ker-choo!” they both sneezed. 

“Are you—now—are you all right, Jan?” 
asked Dick. 

“Yes—I’m all right now,” she answered. 
“But I was scairt when I fell down.” She 
sneezed again. 

“How did it happen?” asked the man who 
was getting a load of chicken feed. He, too, 
sneezed once more. 

Dick told how he and his sister had gone up 
in the mill to play and look at the rats. He 


192 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

also told how Janet had fallen down the hole in 
the floor. 

“That hole should have been covered/’ added 
Tim, taking up the story. “I’ll see that it is 
after this. We used to have a big bin over 
that hole/’ he said, “but it was torn down. 
We kept chicken feed in it, and from the bin a 
tunnel, or wooden chute, runs down, as you see, 
to this platform. Instead of putting the feed 
into bags, we used to let it run down the chute 
directly into wagons. 

“I knew there was a lot of grain left in the 
wooden chute,” said the foreman to the farmer 
who had called to buy some. “That’s why I 
told you to back your wagon under the chute 
and pull the rope. I didn’t think you’d get a 
little girl as well as chicken feed.” 

“I didn’t, either,” laughed the farmer. “I 
never was more surprised in my life!” 

“I was s’prised, too, when I fell in,” said 
Janet. “I just kept sliding right along.” 

It so happened that almost as soon as Janet 
fell into the hole which led into the wooden 
chute, the farmer opened the little door and the 
grains began running out. Of course Janet 
slid along with them. 


Out of the Window 


193 


Luckily for Janet her dress had gone up over 
her head, and this kept the chicken feed from 
getting into her eyes, nose and mouth. And 
she was inside the wooden chute only such a 
little while that no harm came to her except 
covering her with a white, powdery dust. 

“But that’ll brush off,” she said. “And, 
anyhow, this is an old dress.” 

Dick was very glad nothing worse had hap¬ 
pened. And when his mother and father heard 
about it they looked at each other, and laughed. 

“Another adventure for our Wild Cherries,” 
said their mother. 

Mr. Cherry took care to see that the hole in 
the floor was covered over and the door nailed 
down, as it was no longer needed. The farmer 
had taken the last of the chicken feed from the 
old chute. 

Nothing that ever happened to Dick or Janet 
worried them for very long afterward. They 
soon were laughing at the little girl’s queer ad¬ 
venture as they went off to find something else 
at which to play. 

“We never had as much fun anywhere as 
we’re having here in the country, did we, 
Janet?” asked Dick, a few days later when they 


194 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

had gone to a distant farm and had ridden on 
loads of hay. 

“It’s lovely,” Janet agreed. “And to¬ 
morrow mother is going to take us after wild 
strawberries.” 

This little trip was a great success. They 
gathered many of the beautiful red berries 
which have a much different flavor than the 
cultivated, or “tame,” ones growing in a berry 
patch. Dick's feet became entangled in some 
of the vines and he fell down, scratching his 
face on some brambles, but he didn't mind 
that. 

“Everything is so lovely here,” said Janet 
one day, when she and Dick had gone to a wide 
green meadow to fly Dick’s kite. 

“It sure is dandy!” agreed Dick. “And I 
hope nothing ever happens to Uncle Harry or 
the mill so we'll have to go home before it's 
time.” 

“What could happen?” asked Janet. 

“Oh, I don't know,” answered her brother. 
“Only I hope it never does happen.” 

But it did—as I shall tell you when the 
proper time comes. 

One day, about a week after Janet had fallen 


Out of the Window 195 

down the hole into the chicken feed chute, Dick 
called to his sister and said: 

“I know how we can have a pack of fun!” 

“How?” she asked. 

“Do you want to fly through the air?” in¬ 
quired Dick without telling all his plan. 

“Do you mean in an airship?” demanded 
Janet. “I don’t know—maybe if it was a big 
airship I wouldn’t be scairt, but maybe—” 

“No, I don’t mean an airship,” broke in 
Dick. “Look, see that rope up there,” and he 
pointed to one running through a pulley wheel 
on the end of a beam that stuck out under the 
eaves of the mill, up near the peak of the roof. 

“Yes, I see it,” said Janet. 

“Well,” went on Dick, “you can have a fine 
flying ride, just like in an airship, almost, on 
that rope.” 

“How?” asked his sister. 

“We’ll go up to the second floor again—you 
know, where we saw the rats, and—” 

“You mean where I fell in the hole?” asked 
Janet. 

“Yes, but you don’t have to fall down the 
hole again,” explained Dick. “Anyhow you 
can’t, ’cause it’s boarded over. But the rope 


196 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

will come in the window up there. The rope 
has a hook on it. I can fasten that rope 
around your waist.” 

“And what then?” Janet wanted to know as 
Dick paused. 

“Then you jump out of the window and you 
go flying.” 

“Huh! Jump out of the window and maybe 
fall and break my leg! I guess not!” declared 
the little girl, shaking her head. 

“But you’ll be fast to the rope,” exclaimed 
her brother. 

The rope running over a pulley wheel, or, 
rather, two or three pulleys, was long enough 
to reach from the ground up to the roof 
of the mill, and then down again. A man, 
pulling on one end of the rope, after the other 
end was made fast to a number of bags of grain, 
could hoist them to the second or even third 
story of the mill. And by reason of several 
pulley wheels one man, or even a boy, could 
raise a much heavier weight than he could if 
there had been but one pulley. 

“Yes, Til be fast to the rope,” admitted 
Janet, “but the other end of the rope will be 


Out of the Window 197 

loose and it will fly out of the pulley and I’ll 
come down—bump!” 

“No! No!” eagerly cried Dick. ‘Til keep 
hold of the other end of the rope, and I’ll hoist 
you up and down, just like Tim or daddy lifts 
up the bags of grain. You'll go flying around 
on the rope, just like an airship. Want to do 
it?” 

“Yes—I guess so,” agreed Janet, after 
thinking it over for a little while. 

She went up to the second floor of the mill 
with Dick. The hook end of the rope was 
pulled in an open window and the rope was 
made fast about Janet’s waist, as the children 
had seen it wound about a bundle of bags of 
grain. 

“Now you wait until I get down to the 
ground and hold the other end of the rope,” ex¬ 
plained Dick. “When I holler, you climb out 
of the window and jump.” 

“Won’t I fall?” asked the little girl. 

“Didn’t I tell you I’d hold the other end of 
the rope?” answered Dick. “I’ll hoist you up 
and down and then you can hoist me up and 
down, and we’ll pretend we’re flying.” 


198 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

By reason of several pulleys it was easy for 
one child to lift the other up or lower down 
without too much of a strain. 

“Now don’t jump until I holler,” warned 
Dick, as he hurried down the stairs to where 
the free end of the rope was coiled on the 
ground. 

Everything was in readiness. Janet, with 
the rope fastened about her waist, was perched 
on the window sill. 

Mr. and Mrs. Cherry, coming around the 
corner of the mill just then, heard Dick shout: 

“All right! Jump!” 

An instant later Mrs. Cherry thought she 
would faint as she saw Janet leap out of the 
window and then hang suspended in mid air, 
dangling and swaying on the end of a rope, the 
other end of which was held by Dick on the 
ground. 

“Oh, my gracious!” gasped Mrs. Cherry. 


CHAPTER XX 
gid's goat 

Mr. Cherry saw in a glance all that was 
happening and he seemed to see, in a flash as 
it were, all that might happen. He gave one 
quick look at his wife, glanced back toward the 
two Wild Cherries and then he said in a low 
voice to Mrs. Cherry: 

“Don't move! Don't say a word!” 

“Why not ?" she asked. 

“Because you might startle Dick and then 
he would let go of the rope he is holding. If 
he did Janet would get a bad fall. Stand still. 
I'll make it all right." 

Though very nervous and much frightened, 
Mrs. Cherry said nothing more, nor did she 
move. Her husband, though his heart was 
beating faster than usual, walked slowly for¬ 
ward. Then Dick, who was slowly letting the 
rope slip through his fingers, so that Janet was 


200 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


slowly coming down—Dick looked up and saw 
his father. 

“Oh!” gasped Dick. 

Janet, swinging out on the end of the rope, 
about on a level with the second story window 
of the old mill, looked down and also saw her 
father and mother. 

“Look at me! Look at me!” she cried, and 
she did not seem at all afraid. “Lm flying, I 
am!” 

“Hold the rope tight, Dick my boy!” 
said his father in a voice that trembled a 
little, though he tried not to let it. “Hold it 
tight.” 

“Oh—all right/’ said Dick. Somehow he 
felt that his father did not like what was going 
on. 

A moment later Mr. Cherry had reached his 
son's side and had grasped the rope in a firm 
hand. 

“Let go now, Dick,” he said. 

“Can’t I lower Janet down and pull her up, 
like Tim pulls up the bags of corn?” asked 
Dick, much disappointed. 

“Indeed you can’t!” cried Mr. Cherry 
sternly. “I’ll attend to you as soon as Janet is 


Gid's Goat 201 

down. This is the worst thing you have ever 
done!” 

Dick began to look frightened now, as his 
father slowly and carefully lowered Janet to¬ 
ward the ground. Down she came, swinging 
around slowly on the end of the rope, just as 
did the bags of grain and meal which Tim 
lowered. 

“Hello, Daddy!” gaily cried Janet as she ap¬ 
proached her father. “Isn’t this fun P 

Mr. Cherry did not answer. His wife, who 
had seen that Janet was being safely lowered, 
now came forward. There were tears in her 
eyes as she cried: 

“Oh, children! How could you do it and 
frighten us so? How could you do it?” 

“Do what?” Dick wanted to know. He 
couldn’t understand that anything was wrong. 

“Put Janet on the end of a rope and lower 
her like this,” said his mother. “Why did you 
do it?” 

“Why, what’s the matter with this?” the boy 
asked. “Janet likes it; don’t you, Janet?” 

“I didn’t first, but I do now. I think it’s 
lots of fun!” and the little Cherry girl laughed. 
By this time her father had lowered her so close 


202 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


to the ground that her feet touched. Then 
Mr. Cherry began taking the rope off from 
around Janet's waist. 

“Oh, aren't you going to pull me up again?" 
she asked her father. 

“Certainly not!" he answered, sternly. 
“And I am going to punish Dick for doing 
this." 

“Doing what?" demanded Dick. “I didn't 
do anything." 

“Didn't you fasten Janet on the end of this 
rope and lower her out of that window?" asked 
Mr. Cherry, pointing to the one from which 
the little girl had jumped. 

“Why, yes, I did," admitted Dick. “But 
we were playing airship, and she was it. I 
was going to let her lower me next. Why, she 
didn't get hurt." 

“No, but she might have if the rope had 
broken," said Dick's father. 

“It couldn’t break," answered the little lad. 
“It’s a strong rope. Tim pulls up five bags 
at a time and five bags are heavier than 
Janet." 

Mr. Cherry knew this to be true. There 
really was no danger of the rope breaking. 


Gid’s Goat 


203 


“But it might have slipped out of your hands, 
Dick. You shouldn’t have done it,” his father 
said. 

“It couldn’t slip, Daddy,” said Dick earn¬ 
estly. “I had it twisted around my arm, just 
like Tim does when he lowers the bags.” 

“Yes, but even with that the rope might have 
gotten away from you and Janet might have 
fallen. If she had she would have been badly 
hurt.” 

“She wouldn’t have been hurt much if she 
fell,” said Dick. 

“Why not?” asked his father, who wondered 
what excuse the boy would make now. 

“ ’Cause I put a lot of grass on the ground 
where she’d come down if she did fall,” said 
Dick. And, surely enough, he had pulled up 
almost a wheelbarrow load of green grass, 
which was heaped up on the ground beneath 
the window of the mill out of which Janet had 
come. “That grass is just like a cushion! 
Look!” cried Dick, and he jumped on the grass 
to show this. 

“Well, it was a wrong thing for you to do— 
very dangerous!” said Mr. Cherry, “and I 
don’t want you ever to do it again!” 


204 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“I won’t,” promised Dick, who could tell by 
his father’s voice that he was angry. 

“And I must punish you,” went on Mr. 
Cherry. 

Dick looked sorry on hearing this. But he 
did not beg off. And, after all, he had done 
wrong and must suffer for it. As for Janet, 
it wasn’t exactly her fault, for Dick was older 
and she always, or nearly always, did what he 
told her to do. 

So Dick was punished, and wept bitter tears 
but, in the end, it was a good thing, for it made 
him more careful. That is careful in some 
ways, but not careful in others. We can’t 
learn everything all at once, you know. 

It was a few days after this that Dick and 
Janet, out for a walk in the village, had a funny 
adventure. 

They had gone to the store for Aunt Laura, 
and were on their way home with a bag of 
sugar when, happening to look in the side yard 
of a green house, they saw a boy and a goat. 

“Oh, look!” exclaimed Dick at the sight of 
the animal. 

“What a nice goat!” said Janet. 

“I wonder if that boy hitches him to a cart 


Gid's Goat 


205 

and gets rides ?” went on Dick. “I'd like a 
goat ride.” 

“So would I,” added his sister. “Go on— 
ask him, Dick.” 

The boy in the yard, who, up to this time, 
had been looking at the goat which was eating 
grass, did not seem to notice the two Wild 
Cherries. Then Dick called: 

“Hello!” 

“Hello!” answered the boy. 

“My name’s Dick Cherry,” went on Janet’s 
brother. “What’s yours?” 

“My name’s Gid.” 

“Gid what?” Dick wanted to know. He felt 
as if he might ask if it could be “Gid Dap,” 
which was what Dick had heard teamsters call 
to their horses. 

“Gid Turner—that’s my name,” the other 
boy answered, swinging around a rope he held 
in his hand. 

“That’s a nice name,” remarked Janet. “I 
never heard the name Gid before—but it’s a 
nice name.” 

“ ’Tisn’t all my name,” went on the boy. 
“It’s Gideon, but they all call me Gid, for 
short.” 


206 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“That’s like me,” said Dick. “My reg’lar 
name’s Richard, but they all call me Dick.” 

“And they call me Jan, sometimes, though 
I’m Janet,” said the owner of that name. 

“That your goat?” Dick wanted to know as 
the children looked one another over. 

“Sure he’s my goat.” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Kicker.” 

“Kicker? What a funny name!” laughed 
Janet. 

“It’s ’cause he kicks,” explained Gid. 

“Why don’t you harness him to a wagon and 
get a ride?” inquired Dick. 

“ ’Cause,” was all Gid answered. 

“’Cause why?” asked Dick. “Haven’t you 
got a wagon?” 

“Sure I got a wagon. It’s right here,” and 
he wheeled out a small express cart. 

“That’s a dandy wagon!” exclaimed Dick. 
“Why don’t you harness your goat to it and 
have a ride?” 

“ ’Cause I’m scairt of Kicker!” 

“Pooh! I’m not afraid of a goat!” boasted 
Dick. “Come on, Jan,” he called to his sister. 


Gid's Goat 


207 

‘Til harness this goat to the wagon and we’ll 
have a ride!” 

The two Wild Cherries entered the yard. 
Kicker looked at them as if mildly wondering 
what was the idea. Dick and Janet were go¬ 
ing to have another adventure—only they 
didn’t know it. 


CHAPTER XXI 

THE LAME DUCK 

Dick looked at Gid’s express wagon, and at 
some coils or rope in the new boy’s hands. 
Janet waited for what her brother might do or 
say. Meanwhile she looked at Kicker the goat. 
He seemed mild, kind and gentle as he cropped 
the grass. 

“Did you ever hitch Kicker to your wagon?” 
asked Dick. 

“Oh, yes—I hitched him up—once,” was the 
answer. Gid laughed a little. 

“Did he run?” 

“Oh, yes—he ran.” 

“Wasn’t it fun?” Dick next wanted to know. 

“Kinder—sort of,” admitted Gid with a grin 
that showed where one front tooth was miss¬ 
ing. Gid had a lot of freckles, too, and he 
could whistle through the place where a front 
tooth ought to have been. 

“Well, I’m not scairt to harness your goat 
208 


The Lame Duck 


209 


to the wagon and take a ride/’ went on Dick. 
“Want to come, Janet,” he asked his sister, 
“and sit in the wagon with me?” 

“Yes,” she answered. 

“See! She isn’t scairt!” boasted Dick to 
Gid. 

“Well, she don’t know Kicker, and you don’t, 
either,” was the reply. 

“You got to know how to manage a goat,” 
laughed Dick. “Sam Ward—a fellow back 
home—he had a goat once, and he said nobody 
could drive him. But I did.” 

“Was he like Kicker?” Gid inquired. 

“He looked just like him,” said Dick. 

“Um! Maybe. But there’s a lot of differ¬ 
ence in goats,” was Gid’s opinion. “Some’s a 
lot better’n others. But if anything happens 
don’t blame me,” and he handed the ropes to 
Dick. 

“I’m not afraid,” declared the Cherry boy. 
“Push the cart over this way, Gid.” 

“Have you got any lines to steer him with ?” 
Janet wanted to know as the boys brought 
the little express cart nearer Kicker. “We 
couldn’t drive Grunter, the pig, good ’cause we 
didn’t have any lines.” 


210 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Yes, I got lines, and Kicker’ll let you tie a 
loop around his nose and steer him that way,” 
Gid said. “He’s all right when you drive him 
when he isn’t hitched to the cart. But as soon 
as he has to pull anything—” 

“Well, what happens?” asked Dick, as Gid 
stopped. 

“You’ll see, if you try to drive him,” was 
the answer, and again Gid laughed. 

“Oh, I’ll drive him all right,” and Dick 
seemed very sure of himself. 

Kicker, the goat, made no fuss at all while 
he was being harnessed to the little wagon. 
He even seemed to like it. 

“There! What’d I tell you!” boasted Dick, 
when he was almost ready to take his place in 
the cart behind the goat. 

“Wait,” advised Gid. “’Tisn’t over yet!” 

“Come on, Jan, get in!” invited her brother. 

Almost as anxious as was Dick for a ride, 
the little girl got in the back end of the wagon. 
Dick held in his hands two short lengths of 
line, which were fastened about Kicker’s nose. 
By pulling on the right or left line the goat 
could be “steered,” as Janet called it, either 
way. 


The Lame Duck 


211 


Gid moved off to one side, leaving a clear 
path for Dick to start the goat down the walk. 

“Go on !” called the little Cherry boy. “Give 
us a nice ride, Kicker.” 

“Maybe we can ride all the way home and 
deliver the sugar,” suggested Janet. 

“Sure we can!” declared Dick. “Gid-dap, 
Kicker!” he cried. 

The goat, with a funny little wobble of his 
tail started off, pulling behind him the express 
wagon containing Dick and Janet. 

“Watch him! See how nice he goes!” cried 
Dick. 

There was a queer look on Gid’s face. 

“I never knew him to be as good as this be¬ 
fore,” he murmured. “But maybe—” 

That, however, was the end of Kicker being 
good. Suddenly the goat looked around and 
seemed surprised to find that he was pulling 
Dick and Janet in the express wagon—to say 
nothing of five pounds of sugar. 

“Baa-a-a-a-a!” bleated Kicker. 

Then he raised his hind legs in the air and 
began doing the thing for which he had been 
named—he kicked! 

“Whoa! Whoa!” cried Gid, running up. 


212 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Let me out! Let me out!” screamed Janet. 

“Stop it! Stop it!” ordered Dick. 

But Kicker was not taking any orders just 
then. With another bleat he kicked again and 
then he started to run. He was, very likely, 
trying to pull himself loose from the cart, but 
the boys had tied the rope in hard knots that 
did not slip. 

Bumping and swaying the wagon followed 
after the goat, Dick holding tightly to the rope 
lines, and Janet holding to the sides of the 
cart. 

“Whoa! Whoa!” yelled Gid, racing after the 
runaway goat. But Kicker did not whoa any 
better than he stopped. On he ran, the cart 
rattling after him. 

“Leeeeee-e-e-et mee-e-e-e-e ow-ow-ow-out!” 
stammered Janet, for the rattling of the cart 
over the stones of the street, where they now 
were, jiggled her words all out of joint. 

“Oh, Dickckckckckck!” cried the little girl. 
“What’s ha-a-a-a-a-appening?” 

“Kicker’s just ru-ru-ru-running—that’s all,” 
was the answer. 

“Is he—now is he run-un-un-un-unning 
a wa-a-a-a-a-ay ?” 


The Lame Duck 


213 


“I g-g-g-guess so,” admitted Dick. And 
now he was beginning to feel a bit frightened. 
For certainly the goat seemed very strong and 
he was running very fast. 

“I told you so!” cried Gid, trotting along be¬ 
hind. “I knew this would happen! He did it 
once with me. That's why I never harness 
him to the cart." 

However it was too late, How, to say this. 
Kicker was running away with Dick and Janet. 
Janet was beginning to wonder how far the 
goat would take them when something else 
happened. 

Kicker tried to turn a corner of the street, 
but he turned too short. And, as he made the 
turn a woman, with a basket, also came around, 
from the other direction. Kicker gave a jump. 
There was a scream from Janet, a shout from 
Dick and, an instant later, the wagon upset in 
front of the woman. 

Out shot Janet! Out shot Dick! Out 
bounced the bag of sugar, the paper breaking 
and scattering the sweet grains all over the 
sidewalk; for Kicker had run up on the pave¬ 
ment just before he turned the corner. 

“Oh, dear!” sobbed Janet. 


214 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Are you hurt ?” Dick asked as he scrambled 
to his feet, for he was only shaken up. He 
saw Janet holding her elbow. And then Dick 
looked at the woman who had jumped out of 
the way just in time to escape being butted by 
the goat. 

“Miss Lufkin!” gasped Dick as he saw his 
aunt’s cook. 

“Well, of all things!” she cried. “I was just 
coming to look for you, as I wanted some more 
groceries, and I brought the basket to put the 
bag of sugar in.” 

Dick looked to where the white grains were 
scattered over the sidewalk. 

“I guess you can’t put it in anything—now,” 
he said, sadly enough. “This is the second 
time I busted a bag of sugar. ’Member the 
time I ran into the Gipsy when I was on my 
roller skates, Jan?” he asked. 

“Yes, I ’member,” she said. “Oh, dear!” 

“Oh, is your arm hurt?” asked Miss Lufkin. 

“I hit my funny bone on the cart when we 
tipped over,” Janet said. “It’s better now. 
But it hurt at first.” 

Neither of the children were much hurt, 
though they were dusty and dirty. The wagon 


The Lame Duck 


215 

was not even broken. Kicker had pulled him¬ 
self free and was running on—all alone. 

“There he goes!” said Dick ruefully, looking 
down the street. “Will he get lost, Gid? I’ll 
run after him—” 

“He’ll come home all right,” said Gid, easily. 
“ ’Tisn’t the first time he’s run away. But 
I told you that he couldn’t be driven to a 
cart.” 

“I guess you were right,” agreed Dick. He 
was beginning to find out he didn’t know so 
much about goats as he thought he did. 

“Oh, the sugar is all spilled!” gasped Janet, 
seeming to notice this for the first time. 

“Maybe we can save some of it,” said Dick. 

“I’ll go get a big spoon and a tin pail,” of¬ 
fered Gid, kindly. 

“I’ll help you pull the wagon back,” spoke 
Dick. “I’m sorry—” 

“Oh, that’s all right,” and Gid was very good- 
natured about it. 

With the help of Miss Lufkin, about half of 
the sugar was saved. Then she told the Wild 
Cherries to go on home for she would do the 
rest of the shopping, and get more sugar to re¬ 
place that which was spilled. 


216 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Come on over some other day,” invited Gid 
as the Wild Cherries left him. 

“We will,” promised Janet, rubbing her 
elbow. 

“Don’t you want me to help you chase 
Kicker ?” asked Dick. 

“Nope. He’ll come home after a while.” 

And Kicker did. Dick and Janet, going 
over to Gid’s house later in the day, found this 
out. And to make friends with the goat they 
pulled sweet clover for him to eat. Kicker 
seemed to like it. 

“I guess he wasn’t made to be hitched to a 
cart,” was Dick’s opinion. 

“I guess not,” agreed Gid. “He is a funny 
goat.” 

Of course Mrs. Cherry had to scold Dick 
for losing the sugar. But he said it wasn’t his 
fault. 

“How was I to know, Mother, that the goat 
would run away?” he asked. 

“Well, I suppose you couldn’t know that,” 
she answered. “But I do wish you would be 
more careful. Try to think more, Dick, my 
dear.” 


The Lame Duck 


217 


“Yes’m, I will,” he promised. 

It was two or three days after this that, as 
Dick and Janet were walking along a country 
road, where they had gone to pick wild straw¬ 
berries, they heard a loud quacking sound. 

“What’s that?” asked Janet. 

“Sounds like a duck,” said Dick. 

“Oh, so it is, and there he is!” cried Janet. 
“Look, Dick, it’s a duck and he’s lame!” 

Waddling and fluttering along in the road, 
just in front of the children, was a lame duck. 
One of its webbed feet seemed to have been 
crushed. 

“I guess an auto partly ran over him,” sug¬ 
gested Dick. 

“I guess so,” agreed his sister. 

“Say!” suddenly exclaimed Dick. “We 
ought to help this lame duck! Mother said I 
must be more careful and thoughtful. I can 
be thoughtful about this duck, can’t I, Jan?” 

“I guess so. But what you going to be 
thoughtful about him?” 

“I think we ought to get a wheelbarrow, or 
a cart, or something and ride him. ’Cause a 
lame duck can’t walk.” 


218 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


“That’ll be nice—I mean it’ll be nice to ride 
him,” spoke Janet. “If we could only find a 
wheelbarrow!” 

She and Dick looked up and down the road 
while the lame duck fluttered painfully along, 
sadly quacking. 


CHAPTER XXII 

THE BIG KITE 

“Whoa there! Come back!’’ cried Dick, 
running after the duck. “You better let me 
carry you, ’cause you can’t walk on a lame leg.” 

As he was about to pick up the quacking and 
fluttering fowl Janet, who had gone on a little 
farther the other way, uttered a cry and said: 

“Oh, I see a wheelbarrow, Dick.” 

“Where ?” he asked. 

“Down the road there. See!” 

Dick looked and saw. 

“I’ll get it!” he cried. “You watch the duck 
so he can’t get away.” 

“I guess he can’t get away far with a lame 
foot,” spoke Janet. But Dick did not wait to 
hear. He was running down toward the bar- 
row with which he soon came back, pushing the 
one-wheeled cart in front of him. 

“Now we’ll give the duck a ride,” said the 
boy. “We’ll take him home and they’ll be glad 

219 


220 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

of it. I guess we’re being thoughtful now all 
right; aren’t we, Jan?” 

“I guess so—yes. But where does the duck 
live?” 

“Oh, we’ll find the place,” declared her 
brother. “He can’t live very far from here, 
’cause a duck can’t travel as far as a chicken. 
We’ll just put him in the wheelbarrow and roll 
him along. We’ll stop at all the houses we 
come to and ask if he lives there. If he does, 
we’ll bring him in.” 

“Oh, yes!” cried Janet. “That’ll be nice!” 

Dick set the wheelbarrow down and ran af¬ 
ter the lame, fluttering duck. The fowl was 
not easy to catch, for, though it could not travel 
well on the ground with only one good leg, its 
wings were not broken and it could fly. 

But it could not fly as well as it could before 
having been hurt, and after a little chase down 
the road, Dick caught it. He cuddled it ten¬ 
derly in his arms, smoothed the ruffled feathers 
and murmured: 

“I’m not going to hurt you, Duckie! I’m 
just going to take you home!” 

“Let me wheel him part of the way,” begged 
Janet as her brother put the duck in the barrow. 


The Big Kite 


221 


“You can’t!” Dick objected. “It’s too 
heavy. I could hardly push it myself.” 

“I can wheel it all right,” declared Janet. 
“Watch!” 

She took hold of the handles, as Dick stepped 
back after having put in the duck, and the little 
Cherry girl managed to walk along, pushing 
the wheelbarrow in front of her. It was hard 
work but she did it. 

The duck quacked in surprise at this queer 
way of riding. 

“There! Can’t I push him all right?” asked 
Janet. 

“Yes, you can—you’re pretty strong,” com¬ 
plimented Dick. “But I’ll push him to the first 
house, and then it’ll be your turn.” 

To this Janet agreed and she walked along 
by her brother’s side, looking at the duck 
which had now fluttered to the far end of the 
barrow, where it lay in a huddled heap. 

“Maybe he lives in there,” spoke Dick, 
pointing to a house not far down the road. 
“We’ll go in and ask.” 

But just as they we’re going to turn into the 
drive-way the duck flapped and fluttered, nearly 
getting out of the barrow. 


222 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


“Oh, you mustn’t do that!” exclaimed Janet, 
gently putting the fowl back. “He’s going to 
get away, Dick!” 

“Don’t let him, Jan!” 

“I can’t help it,” she cried. “He’s getting 
out again.” For no sooner had she put the 
duck into the corner of the barrow than out he 
fluttered once more, nearly getting over the 
side. 

“Say,” cried Dick, “we got to fasten him in 
—somehow.” 

“I know how we can do it!” exclaimed 
Janet. 

“How?” 

“We can tie him with my apron. I don’t 
need it on ’cause I’m not going to play in the 
dirt—not right away, anyhow.” 

“All right,” said her brother. “Take it 
off.” 

So Janet took off her apron and, very gently, 
the children tied it around the duck, so he 
couldn’t spread his wings. The bird quacked 
loudly during this operation, and tried to get 
loose, but the children managed to fold the 
apron about him. Then the duck grew quiet, 


The Big Kite 


223 

and when he was put in the corner of the bar- 
row he stayed there. 

“Now he can't get out," murmured Janet, 
and she had hardly said this when, around the 
corner of the house out toward the road, came 
walking a woman. She looked curiously at the 
two children and the wheelbarrow. 

“What’s all this noise?" the woman asked. 
“I thought I heard a duck quacking." 

“You did," answered Dick, taking off his 
cap and making a little polite bow. “Did you 
lose a duck ? I mean did you have a duck and 
did he run away and did an auto go over him 
and make him lame? ’Cause if you did we 
got your duck!" 

“Gracious sakes alive, no! I don’t keep 
ducks!" laughed the woman. “But have you 
really a duck in there?" 

“Yes’m, we have, really," answered Janet. 
“We found him side of the road and he can’t 
walk. But he fluttered out so we got him tied 
in my apron, ’cause I don’t need to wear it now 
on account of not playing in the mud and—” 

“Dear me! How you rattle on!" laughed 
the woman again. “Why you really have a 


224 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


duck there, haven’t you?” she cried as she 
looked in the barrow. 

“Doesn’t he look cute?” spoke Janet, for just 
then the duck stuck his neck out from the folds 
of the apron and gave a feeble quack. 

“He’s a funny duck!” laughed Dick. “I 
wonder where he lives ?” 

“Mr. Platt, down the road a few houses, 
keeps ducks,” said the woman. “Maybe it’s 
one of his.” 

“We’ll go there and ask,” suggested Janet. 
“Come on, Dick, it’s my turn to wheel him 
now!” 

“All right,” agreed the boy, and off the two 
children went down the road, trundling the 
lame duck, while the woman, laughing, stood in 
her yard. 

“Those must be the two Wild Cherries I 
have heard about,” she murmured. “The chil¬ 
dren who are staying at Kent’s mill. Well, 
they may be wild but they are kind-hearted to 
take all that trouble for a lame duck! Wrap¬ 
ping him in her apron, too! Oh, I could 
hardly keep from laughing while they were 
here.” 

But, now that the two Wild Cherries were 


The Big Kite 


225 

gone, the woman laughed as much as she 
pleased. 

Dick and Janet were half way to the next 
house when they heard, back of them, the 
sound of an automobile coming along. 

“Look out, Jan! Don’t get too near the 
middle of the road!” cautioned Dick. 

Janet was steering the barrow to one side, 
and the duck was giving another quack, when 
the car came to a stop close to the children and 
a voice cried: 

“Well, of all things! What will you two 
wild ones do next?” 

And there sat Mr. and Mrs. Cherry, in 
Uncle Harry’s flivver! 

“Oh, we found a lame duck!” exclaimed 
Janet, “and we’re taking him home. I guess 
an auto ran over him. I got him wrapped in 
my apron, Mother.” 

“Yes, I see you have,” said Mrs. Cherry with 
a smile. 

“Well, I just had to do it,” explained the lit¬ 
tle girl, “ ’cause he kept fluttering out all the 
while.” 

“Where are you taking him?” Mr. Cherry 
wanted to know. 


226 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Down to Mr. Platt’s/’ answered Dick. 
“The lady back there said he kept ducks and 
maybe this was one of his.” 

“Well, all right, but be careful,” cautioned 
Mrs. Cherry. 

“Where you going?” asked Janet of her 
parents. 

“We are going over to see Dr. Hardy about 
Uncle Harry,” answered Mr. Cherry. 

“Is he worse?” asked Dick quickly, for he 
liked Uncle Harry. 

“He isn’t much better,” Mrs. Cherry an¬ 
swered. “He may have to go to the hospital. 
That’s what we are going to see Dr. Hardy 
about. As soon as you deliver the duck, chil¬ 
dren, you might go back and see if you can 
help Aunt Laura.” 

“Yes’m, we will,” promised Dick. 

Mr. and Mrs. Cherry drove on, and Janet 
wheeled the barrow to the house just down the 
road. As it happened it wasn’t the right one, 
but the next one was, as the children could tell 
by seeing a number of ducks, chicken and geese 
in the yard. 

“I guess this bird lives here,” spoke Dick. 

And the lame duck did, as Mr. Platt said 


The Big Kite 


227 


when he had come out to look at the fowl 
wrapped in Janet’s apron and lying in the bar- 
row. 

“Yes, that’s one of mine,” said the man. 
“It must have wandered down the road and 
then got run over. Much obliged for bring¬ 
ing it back. It’s one of my best ducks, I 
wouldn’t like to lose it. Thanks a whole lot.” 

“You’re welcome,” answered Dick. 

Carefully Mr. Platt unwound Janet’s apron 
from the lame duck and took the fowl under 
his arm. 

“Can you mend the broken leg?” Dick 
wanted to know. 

“Yes, I guess so. It isn’t exactly broken. 
It’s just bruised a bit,” Mr. Platt decided after 
looking at it. “Be all right in a few days, I 
guess. That your wheelbarrow?” he asked, 
as Dick started trundling it out of the yard. 

“No, sir,” the boy answered. “I found it 
side of the road. We’ll take it back.” 

“You can leave it here, if you like, and Fll 
return it,” said Mr. Platt. 

“Do you know whose it is?” inquired Janet. 

"Oh, yes, it’s Mr. Sunbury’s,” replied the 
owner of the lame duck. “He was working 


228 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

at his road ditch with it a while ago as I drove 
past. Shouldn’t wonder but by this time he 
was trying to guess who took his barrow.” 

“Then we’d better take it back,” decided 
Dick. 

He and Janet started back as fast as they 
could go, Dick wheeling the barrow, and leav¬ 
ing behind the laughing poultry man. 

“Queer children, those,” he murmured. 
“Must be the two Wild Cherries stopping 
at Kent’s mill. But they have kind hearts. 
Taking all that trouble for a lame duck! 
Urn!” 

Dick and Janet had nearly reached the place 
where they had found the wheelbarrow when 
they saw a man coming toward them. As he 
reached them the man stopped, looked at the 
children and then at the barrow and said: 
“Wa’al, so you’re bringin’ it back, are you?” 
“Is this yours?” asked Dick. 

“Wa’al, yes, ’tis! I was jest lookin’ for it. 
I left it side of th’ road while I went back t’ 
get my shovel. I’m workin’ on th’ ditch. 
But when I got back my barrow was gone.” 
“We took it,” admitted Dick. 

“To give a duck a ride,” added Janet. 


The Big Kite 


229 

“T’ do what?” cried the man, who, as the 
children guessed, was Mr. Sunbury. 

“We had to ride a lame duck,” explained 
Dick, and when the story was told, Mr. Sun¬ 
bury burst into a roar of laughter, clapped his 
hands down on his legs and cried: 

“Wa’al, I s’numm!” Mr. Sunbury was 
from New England. 

“We—now—we’re sorry if you didn’t want 
us to take your wheelbarrow,” went on Dick, 
while Mr. Sunbury laughed until the tears 
came into his eyes. 

“Oh, land love you! That’s all right!” he 
chuckled. “I only wished I’d ’a’ seen you— 
that’s all! Ridin’ one of Platt’s lame ducks 
in my wheelbarrow wrapped in an apron! 
Wa’al, I s’numm!” And he laughed again, 
Dick and Janet joining in. For it was funny. 

“Wa’al, anyhow, I’m glad t’ get my barrow 
back,” went on Mr. Sunbury, after a while. 
“You can have it again, though, to ride lame 
ducks or chickens, if you like,” and he waved 
a cheery good-bye to the children who started 
back home. 

“Hum!” mused the man as he started his 
ditch-digging again. “They must be these 


230 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


two Wild Cherry youngsters from over at 
Kent’s mill. I heard about ’em. Good boy 
an’ girl though; I’ll say that! I s’numm!” 

Dick and Janet found Aunt Laura with red 
eyes when they reached home. She had been 
crying they guessed, and with gentle voices 
they asked if they could do anything to help her. 

“Not now, my dears,” she answered. 
“Your father and mother have gone to see Dr. 
Hardy.” 

“Yes, we met them,” explained Dick. Then, 
as he and Janet went off quietly by themselves 
he added to his sister: “It’s too bad about 
Uncle Harry, isn’t it?” 

“Yes,” agreed Janet, “do you think he’s go¬ 
ing to lose his mill, or something like that?” 

“Maybe,” assented Dick. “And maybe he’s 
a lot sicker. I wish we could do something 
to help.” 

“So do I,” said his sister. 

Mr. and Mrs. Cherry looked sad and serious 
when they came back. They talked with Aunt 
Laura in the parlor a long time behind closed 
doors. 

The murmur of voices floated out faintly to 
the children. They knew something was go- 


The Big Kite 


231 


ing on, but they could not guess what it was. 
Mrs. Lufkin went in and out of the room 
where Uncle Harry was in bed. And at last 
the housekeeper said: 

“Now you children run out and play. Don't 
stay moping in the house. Go out and have 
some fun.” 

So Dick and Janet did, finding Gid Turner 
and going fishing with him. They didn't catch 
any fish, but they had fun. 

It was the next day, when Mrs. Cherry had 
warned Dick and Janet to be as quiet as they 
could about the house, that Dick led Janet off 
to one side and said: 

“I know what I'm going to do.” 

“What?” she asked. 

“I'm going to make a great big kite,” he 
answered. 

“How big?” 

“Oh, bigger'n what you are, or me, either. 
& saw a picture of one in a book Gid has. 
He's going to help make it. Come on over to 
his house. We'll have some fun!” 

And, a little later, the three children were 
busy making a large kite, with which they 
were to have a strange adventure. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


UNCLE HARRY GOES AWAY 

Making a big kite is no more difficult than 
making a small one, if you know how, and have 
the right kind of sticks, string and paper. All 
these Gid had, and, with the help of Janet and 
Dick, there was soon built a kite so tall that it 
stood a foot above the heads of the children. 

“Say, that’ll pull like anything when it gets 
up!” cried Dick. 

“I guess it will,” agreed Gid. 

“Could I hold the string, once?” begged 
Janet. “Please!” 

“It will lift you right off your feet in the 
air!” declared Dick. “We wouldn’t dare let 
you hold it, Jan!” 

“Oh, it would not lift me up, would it, Gid?” 
asked the little girl. 

“Well, it might,” was Gid’s reply. “It’ll 
pull terrible hard in a strong wind. But you 
could hold it if the wind doesn’t blow too 
hard.” 


232 


Uncle Harry Goes Away 233 

“Yes, maybe she could if the wind doesn’t 
blow too hard,” agreed Dick. 

“ ’Tisn’t blowing very hard now,” said Janet, 
wistfully. “Could I hold it now? Please!” 

“Wait till the paste dries,” said Gid. 

He had a ball of strong cord and when this 
was fastened to the kite, and when the wet, 
pasted paper had dried, the boys took it out to 
a big meadow, Janet following. There was 
some comfort flying a kite in a place like Sum¬ 
mer Hill, for there were no telegraph or elec¬ 
tric light wires to tangle in the kite string or 
tail. As a matter of fact this kite had no tail. 
Gid bent the cross stick in the shape of a 
bow, and this sort of a kite needs no tail to 
keep it steady. 

After two or three trials, during which the 
kite dived down to the ground, it finally sailed 
well up into the air, much to the delight of 
the lads and Janet. 

“Oh, let me hold the string!” she begged, 
and finally she was allowed to do so. 

“It doesn’t pull much!” she said. “I can 
hold it easy!” 

“It will pull after a while,” predicted Gid, 
and, surely enough, when the breeze grew 


234 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

stronger, it was all Janet could do to hold down 
the big kite. She was glad enough to pass the 
string to Dick, who took a turn or two of it 
around a stump. 

“It can’t pull the stump up,” he said. 

“No, I guess it can’t,” agreed Gid. 

The children put “messengers” on the kite 
string. These messengers were pieces of pa¬ 
per with holes in and the breeze blew them, 
whirling them about, until they were carried 
all the way up the cord to the kite itself, high 
in the air. 

The wind grew stronger and stronger, caus¬ 
ing the kite to dip and dive about high in the 
air. Eagerly the boys and Janet watched it 
—like some big bird—an eagle, perhaps—it 
seemed. 

“Maybe the string’ll break,” ventured Janet. 

“Oh, I guess it won’t,” spoke her brother. 

“It’s good and strong,” said Gid. 

But, hardly had he said this than there came 
a heavier puff of wind. There was a snap¬ 
ping sound and the kite cord broke off close to 
where it was tied to the stump. 

“Oh!” cried Janet. 

“There she goes!” shouted Gid. 


Uncle Harry Goes Away 235 

“Come on!” exclaimed Dick. “We got to 
chase after it!” 

Free from the holding cord, the kite for a 
time sailed on high in the air. The long string 
acted as a drag, or an anchor, and kept it “be¬ 
fore the wind,” as a sailor might say. 

But now it was coming slowly down, while 
below it, across the green meadow, raced Dick 
and Gid, with Janet (whose legs were shorter) 
following along after the two lads. 

“She’s coming down!” cried Dick. 

“Yes, and right near your uncle’s house,” 
added Gid. “I guess we can get it back all 
right—if it doesn’t bust!” 

The kite was headed toward the mill. It 
was whipped by the wind around the corner of 
the house and, just as Dick and Gid followed, 
they saw the big kite swoop down toward Miss 
Lufkin who, at that moment, dressed in bonnet 
and shawl, came out to go to the store. 

Down dived the kite straight toward the 
housekeeper. 

“Look out!” yelled Dick. 

“Oh! Oh!” screamed Janet. 

“It’s going to bunk into her!” exclaimed Gid. 

And that is just what the runaway kite did. 


23d Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

It swooped down over Miss Lufkin’s head, and, 
had it been a little lower, the pointed end of 
the upright stick might have struck her. 

As it was, however, it skimmed over her 
head and lifted off her bonnet as neatly as if 
some one had done it by hand. Then the kite, 
still blown by the wind, kept on, sailing upward 
and carrying with it the housekeeper’s best 
bonnet. 

“Oh! Oh, what has happened?” she cried, 
putting her hands up to her head. The kite 
had made very little noise, and she could not 
imagine what it was. At first she thought it 
was some great bird swooping down on her 
out of the sky. 

Then, turning, Miss Lufkin saw the Wild 
Cherries and Gid. 

“Did you do that?” she cried. “Did you 
take my bonnet?” 

“It was the kite!” cried Dick, pointing. 

Miss Lufkin looked up and saw, sailing 
above and beyond her the paper toy, with her 
bonnet caught fast on the end of the stick. 

“Oh, my goodness!” she cried. “Bless my 
eyes!” 


Uncle Harry Goes Away 237 

“We couldn't help it,” explained Dick. 
“The kite broke away!” 

“I'll get your bonnet!” offered Gid. “I 
guess it's coming down now.” 

And the kite was. The breeze died away 
for a moment or two, and the kite settled to¬ 
ward the earth. Almost as soon as it landed, 
Dick and Gid were at the spot, untangling Miss 
Lufkin's bonnet from the wreck of strings, 
sticks and paper—for the kite was broken in 
its fall. 

“The bonnet isn't much hurt,” said Dick, as 
he picked it up. 

“No, but the kite's all busted,” sighed Gid. 

“You can save part of it,” remarked Janet 
who had at last run up to where the kite had 
fallen. “You can make two little kites now.” 

“Yes, I guess we can,” agreed Gid. 

“Well, I must say, I won't look very re¬ 
spectable, going to the store this way!” ex¬ 
claimed Miss Lufkin, whose hair had been 
much ruffled when her bonnet was so roughly 
pulled off by the kite. 

“We’re terrible sorry,” spoke Dick, handing 
over the bonnet. 


238 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Oh, well, I s’pose you couldn’t help it,” and 
Miss Lufkin smiled. “Fll go back and fix my¬ 
self up again. But I wouldn’t make such large 
kites if I were you.” 

“Maybe we better not,” agreed Gid, who was 
trying to save as much as he could from the 
wreck of the big paper toy. 

Later, he and Dick each made for himself 
a smaller kite from what remained of the large 
one, and Janet could hold these with no danger 
of being carried off her feet. 

It was two days after the kite adventure, 
when the Wild Cherries came down the 
village street in the afternoon, having been over 
to Gid’s house that they saw, drawn up in front 
of the mill, a strange wagon. 

“It’s an ambulance!” cried Dick, who had 
often seen them in Vernon where he lived. 

“Oh, what you s’pose has happened?” gasped 
Janet. 

“I—I guess maybe Uncle Harry—” began 
Dick, but he did not finish. 

“Come on,” urged Janet, taking Dick’s hand.. 
“We got to run!” 

They reached the house just as Uncle Harry 
was being carried out on a stretcher. The sick 


Uncle Harry Goes Away 239 

man, who was wrapped in blankets, looked at 
the children and smiled. 

"I’m going to have a fine rider he cried 
gaily. He never let it be known when he was 
in pain. 

"Where you going?’’ asked Janet. 

"To the hospital,” Uncle Harry answered. 
"They’re going to give me a ride there in this 
fine ambulance. It feels like a feather bed 
they tell me, so soft and easy. I’m going to 
the hospital to get better. And while I’m gone 
I want you two Wild Cherries to look after 
my mill for me. Will you do that? Will you 
take care of the mill ?” 

"Yes, Uncle Harry!” answered Dick. 

"Aren’t mother and father going to be 
here?” Janet wanted to know. 

Her mother came out of the house just then, 
and around the corner drove Mr. Cherry in the 
flivver, in which was seated Aunt Laura. 

"Children,” said Mr. Cherry, "your mother 
and I are going with Aunt Laura to take Uncle 
Harry to the hospital. There he will be made 
well. We are going to leave you two here.” 

"All—all alone?” faltered Janet. "Have we 
got to stay all alone ?” 


240 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“No, Miss Lufkin will be here, and so will 
Tim,” said Aunt Laura. “You won’t be 
afraid, will you?” 

Dick looked at Janet and Janet looked at 
Dick. 

Each of the Wild Cherries took a long 
breath. It was like getting in a bath tub filled 
with cold water. 


CHAPTER XXIV 

THE BIG STORM 

“Now then, where are my two brave little 
soldiers ?” It was Mother Cherry who asked 
this. At the words Dick and Janet straight¬ 
ened up. They held back the tears that were 
coming into their eyes. 

“That’s better!” said Mother Cherry with a 
laugh. “Forward—March!” 

The two Wild Cherries threw back their 
shoulders, saluted and then, wheeling about, 
marched to the front steps. The ambulance 
driver, the doctor who had come in the “wagon 
that rode like a feather bed,” and Tim Gordon 
looked at the children in surprise. 

It was an old game that their mother was 
playing with Dick and Janet. Often, when 
they were smaller, and had not wished to do 
the things she had told them to do, she had 
pretended that they were soldiers and that she 
was the Captain. 


241 


242 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“Good soldiers always obey their Captain!” 
she would say. 

Then the Wild Cherries, conquering their 
own feelings, would do as they were told. 
When she saw, now, how badly they were feel¬ 
ing because they had to stay at the mill while 
daddy and mother went away, Mrs. Cherry 
quickly played the old game. 

“Halt!” she called, suddenly, and Dick and 
Janet, having reached the steps, came to a stop. 

“Fll just speak to them a moment,” whis¬ 
pered Mrs. Cherry to her husband. “Ill ex¬ 
plain, and then everything will be all right.” 

“Perhaps you and Robert had better not 
come with us,” said Aunt Laura. “I think I 
can manage about Harry.” 

“Not at all!” exclaimed Mr. Cherry. “The 
children will be all right at the mill with Tim 
and Miss Lufkin. We are going to see you 
through, Laura!” 

To Dick and Janet Mrs. Cherry said, in a 
low voice: 

“Children, this is a time of trouble. You 
must be brave soldiers and help. Your father 
and I are going to Midvale where the hospital 
is. Uncle Harry has suddenly become worse, 


The Big Storm 


243 


and Dr. Hardy says only care in a hospital 
will save him. He must have an operation/’ 

“Oh, all right, we’ll stay here with Tim and 
Miss Lufkin,” promised Janet, swallowing a 
big lump in her throat. 

“And we’ll help save the mill,” added Dick, 
swallowing a big lump in his throat. He did 
not know what true words he was speaking. 

“Then it’s all right!” said Mrs. Cherry with 
a smile. “I knew my two little soldiers would 
be brave.” 

She patted them on their backs—she did not 
kiss them, for soldiers are not kissed—except 
in France, and there it is all right. 

“We’ll be back in two or three days,” said 
Daddy Cherry as he drove on in the flivver. 

“Good-bye!” and Uncle Harry waved his 
hand from the ambulance to the Wild Cherries. 
“Don’t forget to look after my mill!” 

“We’ll take care of it!” promised Dick and 
Janet. 

But in spite of their promises and trying to 
keep up the spirit of soldiers, it was all they 
could do to hold back the tears when they saw 
their father and mother going down the road 
behind the ambulance. Miss Lufkin, however. 


244 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

was a wise woman. She bustled out with a 
smile and said: 

“I’ve just baked some doughnuts. Wouldn’t 
you each like one with powdered sugar on, and 
a glass of milk to drink? Come, soldiers 1 ” she 
cried, in imitation of Mrs. Cherry. “Come 
and get your rations!” 

Then Dick and Janet smiled. Their tears 
were gone. After all, it was quite an honor 
to be left partly in charge of a big mill. 

“There’s lots to do!” said Tim Gordon, after 
the little lunch. “I never knew a busier time. 
All the farmers in the county are bringing their 
grain to be ground, I do believe.” 

“I’ll help!” offered Dick. 

“And I’ll make out the bills,” said Janet. 

The remainder of that day they played about 
the mill, “helping” now and then whenever 
Tim thought of something they could do. As 
he had said, it was a busy time. Much grain 
was brought to be ground between the big 
stones. The water splashed over the great 
moss-covered wheel outside. 

“The wheel turns fast, doesn’t it?” asked 
Dick, as he stood beside Tim at the flume. 

“Yes, too fast,” was the answer. “There’s 


The Big Storm 


245 


too much water coming down, I’m afraid/’ 

“What makes it?” asked Janet, and she 
thought Tim looked worried, as mother some¬ 
times did when things didn’t go just right. 

“Too much rain,” answered the foreman. 
“The lake must be very high. I hope the dam 
holds. If it breaks—well, there won’t be any 
mill left to grind the grain.” But this last he 
said in a low voice. He thought Dick and 
Janet had not heard him—but they had. 

“Do you think the mill will be washed away, 
Dick?” asked Janet that night as they were 
getting ready for bed. 

“I hope not,” he answered. “But it’s rain¬ 
ing again. Listen to it!” 

Indeed the drops were again pattering on the 
roof. But it soothed the Wild Cherries to 
sleep. They were a bit lonesome, at first, with¬ 
out their father and mother, but Miss Lufkin 
was very kind. And when he had closed the 
mill, Tim came over and told the children a 
story. They did not care to listen to the radio 
that first night of being left alone. 

Tim took up his quarters in the house, and 
for company Miss Lufkin moved into the bed 
room where Mrs. Cherry had slept. 


246 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

‘Til be near you all night Iong," she told 
Dick and Janet. 

It was still raining next day when the chil¬ 
dren awoke. The water was pelting down, 
and every time the wind blew it spattered great 
showers of drops from the trees. 

After breakfast Senor Paletta came down 
from his cabin up on top of the hill near the 
lake. He was quite wet and shook the rain 
off him as a big dog might do. 

“I come to test my new radio—the radio that 
you can talk to me over, ,, he said to the chil¬ 
dren. “I want to see if it works in a storm. ,, 

The inventor had put in this radio set as 
much for himself as for the children, as he 
wanted to try out some new machinery he was 
making. 

“Yes, it works all right," he said, after he 
had flashed the vacuum tubes and made sparks 
come from the wires. “When I go back I will 
talk to you and you may talk to me. I wanted 
Jed North to go to my cabin so I could talk to 
him now and test this set, but Jed isn't there." 

“Do you mean the gate watchman isn't 
there?" cried Tim. 


The Big Storm 


247 


“Jed wasn’t when I came down,” said Senor 
Paletta. “But I think he will be there before 
long.” 

“He should be there!” cried Tim. “Jed 
North should be on the watch. If the lake gets 
too high he must open the flood gate or the 
mill will be swept away. He should be there! 
I must see about this. It will be dangerous if 
Jed isn’t on the watch. I’ll go back with you, 
Senor Paletta.” 

So Tim went up on the hill through the 
storm, leaving the Wild Cherries in charge of 
Miss Lufkin. There was not so much to do 
at the mill now, as few farmers would bring 
their grain out in this storm, though many had 
come through the little showers. 

It was afternoon when Tim came back, to 
find Dick and Janet playing steamboat with 
an old spinning wheel the housekeeper had 
brought down out of the attic for them. 

“Did you find the watchman?” asked Dick. 

“Yes, Jed is there now,” he said. “But 
there’s something the matter with him. He 
says he’s sick, but I think he’s just lazy. He 
doesn’t like to stay in his lonely cabin when 


248 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

there's a storm. They ought to get another 
man. I’ll just telephone him now and see if 
he is feeling any better." 

There was a telephone from Uncle Harry's 
house to the cabin where the flood-gate watch¬ 
man stayed when there was danger. Ringing 
the bell, Tim was soon talking to the man on 
guard. 

“How's the weather up there?" Dick and 
Janet heard Tim ask the watchman over the 
house telephone. “Pretty wet, eh? Well, so 
it is here. I'm thinking we're in for a worse 
storm. Well, you keep watch, and if the lake 
gets too high open the gate. If you don’t the 
mill will wash away." 

This would be a dreadful thing to have hap¬ 
pen, the Wild Cherries knew. But they hoped 
for the best. 

Darkness came early that evening, for the 
sky was covered with black, weeping clouds. 
Miss Lufkin gave the children and Tim an 
early supper. 

“You may listen to the radio for a little 
while," she said, “and then it will be time to 
go to bed." 


The Big Storm 249 

“Do you think mother and daddy will be 
home to-morrow ?” asked Janet. 

“I think so, dear; yes. I telephoned to the 
hospital about your uncle.” 

“How is he?” asked Dick. 

“Well, it’s hard to say, as yet,” replied the 
housekeeper. “The nurse said he was worried 
about the mill. He seems to fear that this 
high water may wreck it.” 

“Oh, we’ll take care of it,” promised Janet. 

“And if the watchman doesn’t open the gate 
in time—I will!” declared Dick. 

The radio did not work very well on account 
of the storm. But Dick and Janet had some 
fun talking to Senor Paletta over the extra 
set he had put in. They listened to him, and 
also heard a little music he played for them 
on the mouth organ. 

As Dick and Janet went up to their rooms, 
they heard the shutters banging and the house 
shook with a rumbling sound. 

“What’s that?” gasped Janet. 

“It’s just the storm, dearie,” answered Miss 
Lufkin. “It’s growing worse instead of bet¬ 
ter. Thunder, lightning and rain! But don’t 
be afraid. This is a strong house.” 


250 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

“It's a big storm all right,” murmured Dick 
to his sister. “I guess the lake must be pretty 
high now.” 

“When it gets too high the watchman will 
open the gate, won’t he?” asked Janet. 

“Yes,” answered Miss Lufkin. She hoped 
he would. 

How long Dick and Janet slept they did not 
know. But they were suddenly awakened, at 
what appeared to be the middle of the night. 
A roaring sound seemed to fill the air, but it 
was not a roar like that of the thunder. Dick 
sat up in bed to listen. He could hear the 
howling of the wind and the pelting of rain. 
In the next room Janet was moving about. 

“What’s the matter, Jan?” called Dick. 

“I—now—I’m afraid,” his sister answered. 
“Oh, Dick, it’s a terrible storm! I’m afraid 
the mill will wash away!” 


CHAPTER XXV 

SAVING THE MILL 

Dick switched on his electric light (for they 
had such things at Uncle Harry's house) then 
put on some of his clothes and went softly into 
his sister’s room. He found Janet already up 
and partly dressed. 

“I—I can’t sleep in this awful storm,” she 
said. 

“I can’t, either,” admitted Dick. “I’m not 
prezactly scairt, but I don’t like it.” 

“Me, neither,” Janet said. 

From the next room came the voice of Miss 
Lufkin. 

“Are you children up ?” she called. 

“Yes’m,” answered Janet. 

“We can’t sleep,” added Dick. 

“I don’t blame you a bit—I can’t, either,” 
admitted the housekeeper. “It’s pretty bad, 
but there’s nothing to be afraid of. We’ll 
251 


252 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

go down stairs. I think I hear Tim up, too.” 

The foreman of Uncle Harry’s mill was out 
in the kitchen, whence came the appetizing 
smell of boiling coffee. 

“What are you doing, Tim?” called Miss 
Lufkin. 

“Making me some coffee,” he answered. 
“The storm’s getting worse. The lake must be 
very high, for the water’s coming over the 
edges of our mill flume. I can hear it. Jed 
hasn’t opened the gate yet, and I’m going to 
find out why. It’s time he did. The flood¬ 
gate ought to be open or the dam will burst, 
and then—well, I’m going to find out what’s 
wrong!” 

He was boiling some coffee in the pot, care¬ 
fully watching it. 

“Would you children like some cookies and 
milk?” asked Miss Lufkin. 

“Yes, please,” murmured Janet. 

And when they were all four eating a mid¬ 
night lunch, while the wind howled outside, 
and the rain pelted down, the house sometimes 
shaking under the force of the blast, Dick 
said: 

“It’s just like Gipsies, isn’t it, Janet?” 


Saving the Mill 


253 

“Kinder like ’em,” she answered, her mouth 
half full of cooky. 

Tim finished his coffee and got his rain coat 
and rubber boots from a corner of the room. 

“You’re not going up to the watchman’s 
cabin in all this rain and storm, are you?” 
asked Miss Lufkin, in surprise. 

“Sure I am!” was the answer. 

“Why don’t you ring Jed up on the telephone 
and ask him why he hasn’t opened the gate?” 
inquired the housekeeper. “That’s the easiest 
way. Call him on the telephone.” 

“I did.” 

“What’d he say?” 

“Nothing. He didn’t answer.” 

“He didn’t?” cried Miss Lufkin. “Then 
something must be the matter!” 

“That’s what I think,” said Tim. “Either 
Jed has gone away and has forgotten to open 
the gate, or he’s sick and can’t. Either way 
it’s bad. For if the gate isn’t opened soon— 
away will go the mill!” 

“That would be dreadful!” said Miss Lufkin. 

“Well, I’m going up there and open the gate 
myself,” declared Tim. 

“But are you sure Jed doesn’t answer the 


254 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

telephone ?” cried the woman. “Wait a min¬ 
ute, Tim,” she cried as he was about to go out. 
“Let me ring him again.” 

Tim waited while, amid the crash, rumble 
and roar of the storm, the housekeeper tried 
to signal to the watchman in his shanty at 
the head of the lake, near the dam and flood¬ 
gate. But though the bell in the mill-house 
rang, there was no answering voice at the tele¬ 
phone. 

“He can’t be there,” said Miss Lufkin in a 
low tone, while Dick and Janet wondered what 
would happen next. 

Suddenly there was a louder crash of thun¬ 
der, and sparks came from the telephone. 

“The wire’s struck!” cried Tim. “It’s out 
of business now—it’s broken! We can’t get 
Jed now! I’ll have to go up!” 

“Will lightning strike the wireless?” Janet 
wanted to know. 

“There’s a lightning arrester in it,” said 
Dick. “I heard Mr. Paletta say so. Light¬ 
ning won’t hurt it.” 

Tim opened the door and stepped out. As 
he did so a fierce gust of wind blew a shower 
of rain into the house. 


Saving the Mill 255 

“Oh, it's a terrible night !” exclaimed Miss 
Lufkin. “I hate to have you go out.” 

“It’s the only way,” Tim said. “The flood 
gate must be opened. If Jed isn't there to do 
it—I must.” 

He closed the door after him and shut out 
some of the sound of the storm. But in an¬ 
other instant the children and Miss Lufkin 
heard a cry of pain. 

“It's Tim—he's hurt!” exclaimed the house¬ 
keeper. She flung open the door. In dashed 
more wind and rain, while the lightning 
flashed and the thunder rumbled. In the glare 
of the flashes they could see Tim lying on the 
ground near the steps. 

“Were you struck?” cried the housekeeper. 

“No, I slipped and fell,” was the groaning 
answer. “I'm afraid my leg is broken! Help 
me back into the house!” 

With Dick's help, Miss Lufkin managed to 
give Tim enough aid so that he could drag him¬ 
self in on the floor. Then the door was closed 
against the storm. 

“I must telephone for Dr. Hardy,” said the 
housekeeper. 

“You can't—the wire is gone—struck by 


256 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

lightning,” said the foreman. “But never 
mind me! You’ll have to go up to the top of 
the hill and tell Jed to open the gate—the flood¬ 
gate must be opened soon or the mill will go. 
The lake is terrible high on account of all this 
rain. But—no—Jed isn’t there! You’ll have 
to open the gate yourself! Can you ?” 

“I—I’m afraid not,” faltered the house¬ 
keeper. “But I can find a man somewhere and 
ask him to do it. I’ll go up.” 

She began to look about for her bonnet and 
shawl. Dick and Janet had frightened faces. 
Janet was going to cry. 

“You mustn’t!” whispered Dick. “We 
must be—like soldiers—Jan—you know—the 
game mother plays!” 

Janet’s lips quivered, but she held back her 
tears. 

A louder crash of thunder, fiercer lightning 
and more rain told how terrible was the storm. 

“Its too bad to have you go out in it, Miss 
Lufkin,” said Tim. “But I can’t hardly crawl, 
let alone walk. And, as it is I’m afraid you 
won’t be in time. Listen!” 

A new and different roaring sound came to 
their ears. 


Saving the Mill 


257 


"The water’s coming over the top of the dam 
—I can hear it in the gully!” said the foreman. 
"The dam won’t hold long now! The flood 
gate should be open!” 

"I’ll open it myself!” cried the housekeeper. 

"You can’t!” groaned Tim. "You never 
can do it! It’s two miles or more, up hill, to 
the gate house. In all this storm you’ll never 
make it. There’s no one else near here who 
could. No, we’ll just have to let the mill go, 
I’m thinking!” 

"Will this house wash away?” asked Janet. 

"No, dearie, not the house, just your 
uncle’s mill,” answered the foreman, who had 
propped himself up to lean against a chair as 
he sat on the floor. "The water will just wash 
away the flume, then it will tear out the mill 
wheel and the mill. But the water won’t come 
here on account of the big gully in between.” 

The mill stood on one side of a deep ravine, 
or small valley, and the house on the other side. 
Between them rushed the flood water, flowing 
beneath a bridge Uncle Harry had built. 

"Yes, the mill will go soon,” murmured Tim. 
"The dam can’t last much longer if the flood 
gate isn’t opened. And nobody can get up 


258 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

there now to open the gate. The mill will go!” 

Suddenly Dick, who had been thinking as 
hard as his little head could think, uttered a 
cry. 

“What is it?” exclaimed Miss Lufkin. 

“The wireless!” cried Dick, pointing to the 
new sending set that had been put in by Senor 
Paletta. “We can call him on the wireless? 
He can open the gate. He can save the mill 1 ” 

“Oh, yes!” joined in Janet. “Once he told 
me he opened the gate for the watchman. 
Senor Paletta knows how!” 

“Oh—do you think so, Tim?” cried Miss 
Lufkin, clasping her hands. 

The foreman looked at the two Wild Cher¬ 
ries. 

“Do you know,” he murmured, “I think that 
will do the trick. I think it will! If the mill 
is to be saved they’ll do it! If we can get that 
foreigner on the wireless, and he opens the 
gate, the dam will hold and the mill will be 
saved. But I can’t seem to work the wireless. 
I don’t know how this one works!” 

“Nor I!” said the housekeeper. 

“But I do!” cried Dick. 

“And I can help!” offered his sister. 


Saving the Mill 


2 59 


Losing all fear, now, of the storm and the 
lightning which flashed outside, Dick went to 
the instruments and, doing as the inventor had 
showed him, turned the dials, threw in the 
switches and set the vacuum tubes glowing. 
The set was simple to operate and Dick and 
Janet had soon learned the trick of it. There 
was no danger of lightning for there was no 
aerial to this set. 

Once he had the connections made, Dick 
rang a bell in the lonely shack of the “hermit.” 
The bell was an ordinary electric one, operated 
by pushing a button. 

There was a wait of a few seconds—a wait 
that was tense and filled with anxiety. The 
noise of the storm grew louder. The roar of 
angry waters filled the air outside. The lake 
was very high. The dam could not hold much 
longer. 

Suddenly a voice came out of the new wireless 
loud speaker asking: 

“What is it? Who is calling Senor Pa- 
letta? What is it?” 

“This is Dick,” answered the owner of the 
voice, turning the switch so that he could talk 
to the cabin on the hill. “This is Dick—one 


260 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

of the Wild Cherries. Janet—the other Wild 
Cherry—she is here, too. Oh, the gate isn't 
open and the dam will break! Uncle Harry's 
mill will be washed away! Can you open the 
gate, Sehor Paletta? We can’t telephone the 
watchman 'cause the telephone is struck by 
lightning!" 

Thus spoke Dick over the wireless. 

There was another silence, broken only by 
the noise of the storm. And then, out of the 
horn, again came the voice of the inventor: 

“Do not be afraid! I will open the big 
flood-gate. I will let the waters off so they 
will not break the dam. Do not be afraid! I 
will open the gate!" 

There was a rattling, clanging, squeaking 
sound as, from his end, the inventor shut off 
the wireless current. And then Dick pulled 
out the switch and the vacuum tubes grew dark. 

“If he will only be in time," murmured Tim, 
trying not to groan in pain. 

They waited—an hour it seemed, though it 
was only a few minutes. All the while the 
storm raged without. Then came a signal— 
a signal that the inventor was about to speak 
over the wireless. 


Saving the Mill 


261 

“Hello, Wild Cherries!’' he called. 

“Hello! Hello!” eagerly answered Dick and 
Janet. 

“All is well,” went on the voice. “I have 
the gate opened. The waters are going safely 
out the other way. The dam is safe! I will 
see you in the morning.” x 

With a splutter the wireless ceased. Dick 
and Janet gave sighs of relief. 

“The Wild Cherries saved the mill,” mur¬ 
mured Tim. For the sound of the raging 
water was not so loud now in the flume ravine. 
The lake was rushing off through the safety 
flood-gate. “The Wild Cherries saved the 
mill!” 

“Indeed they did!” echoed Miss Lufkin. 
“And now I must see about a doctor for you, 
Tim Gordon.” 

“No, I’ll wait until morning,” he said. “I 
don’t believe my leg’s broken after all, but it 
hurts a lot. I don’t mind, though, for the mill 
is safe.” 

And so it was, for when morning came the 
water in the lake had fallen so low, because of 
running off through the flood-gate, that there 
was no more danger. Then came Senor Pa- 


262 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 


letta bringing Dr. Hardy to look at Tim’s leg, 
and telling a story of how poor Jed North, in 
his lonely shanty, had been taken so ill that he 
could not go out to open the gate as he should 
have done. 

“But I open him!” laughed the Italian. “I 
get myself all wet, but what I care? I open 
the gate for the Wild Cherries!” 

Dick and Janet were very happy over what 
they had done. And they were much happier 
a few hours later when daddy and mother 
came back to say that Uncle Harry had been 
operated on in the hospital and was going to 
get well. 

“I knew I could depend on my two brave lit¬ 
tle soldiers!” said Mother Cherry, as she patted 
them on the backs. For they don’t kiss sol¬ 
diers except in France—where, as I said, it is 
proper. 

And so this is the story of the Wild Cherries 
in the country and of how they saved the mill. 
After the storm came pleasant happy days, and 
on one of the most beautiful, Uncle Harry 
came back from the hospital, almost well and 
strong again. 

“I’ll soon b$ able to work in my own mill— 


Saving the Mill 


263 


my mill that Dick and Janet saved for me by 
wireless!” he laughed. “It was wonderful!” 

Not long after this, when Uncle Harry was 
much better, Mr. Cherry said: 

“We have enough money now, to pay off 
the mortgage. Business at the mill has been 
fine this summer.” 

“I am glad of that!” said Uncle Harry. 
“Now I do not need to worry any more. 
The Wild Cherries brought us good luck, I 
think.” 

“Indeed they did!” exclaimed Tim, who was 
able to limp about. “I had good luck, too. I 
might have broken my leg when I fell, but I 
only cut it, and it's getting better fast.” 

Every one was happy. Janet looked up at 
her mother and said: 

“Do you remember what the Gipsy said; 
about danger in deep water?” 

“Oh, yes, Madame Deborah’s warning!” 
laughed Mrs. Cherry. “Well, it was partly 
true, wasn’t it? There was danger in deep 
water. But then there always is, and she was 
only guessing when she spoke. She knew 
nothing of what was to happen.” 

“She didn’t know Grunter, the pig, was go- 


264 Two Wild Cherries in the Country 

ing to dump us in the mud, did she, Jan?” 
asked Dick. 

“No!” laughed his sister. 

Then the Wild Cherries went out to play. 

“Oh, Dick,” said Janet a little later, “I feel 
so sorter funny and good, don’t you?” 

“Kinder,” he confessed. 

“I—I’d just like to do something—something 
wild, wouldn’t you?” Janet went on. 

“Um—huh!” mumbled Dick. “And I’m go¬ 
ing to do it, too!” 

“What you going to do?” cried Janet, as her 
brother ran down the road. 

“I’m going to ride Gid’s goat bareback like 
a cowboy!” declared Dick. And he did, too, 
for a little way, when Gid’s goat tossed him off. 

“But I don’t care!” laughed the boy. 
“We’re having fun, aren’t we, Jan?” 

“We sure are!” laughed the girl. 

And I am going to tell you of some more fun 
the children had. But that must be put into 
another book. For this is as full as it can well 
be. In the next volume, to be called “Two 
Wild Cherries in the Woods,” I shall tell you 
how Dick and Janet caught a bear. 


THE END 





























































































































































































































